Hogwart's World of Worried WizardFolk Grade 7
by Strange Principles
Summary: The mission to defeat Voldemort becomes desparate, and the whole world seems to turn upside down. Will there never be an end to the danger? And can Harry withstand it all? In this world, enemies are everywhere and even friends are accusing...
1. Train Journey to Hogwarts

-1**Hello everybody! This is my latest works, illustrating a hypothesis for the 7th Harry Potter book. The chapters work like this: Hermione, Ron, Draco, Harry, and round again. This is Hermione; so afterwards it'll be Ron, then Draco, then Harry… etc. Please give it a chance, due to the fact there are some great chapters and others are less exciting. This is a Humour/Angst/Adventure.**

**I've had to replace the first chapter because the changing of tense was absolutely appalling. I'm extremely used to 3rd Person, past tense, so this was a new thing for me to do… but hopefully this won't change tense!**

**Disclaimer: (to Humpty Dumpty) Harry Potter isn't mine! Wish it was, but I can dream. One day JK might sign it over to me, but till then I'll just squee.**

**(SQUEE: REJOICE! Lots of people use it, but I'm not sure if its in the dictionary.)**

**I'm re-rating this T, just for language. And a reference in this chapter, but it's very mild.**

**Chapter One**

It's September the first all ready - and time hasn't just flown by, it's like it doesn't exist. Fleur's wedding, Harry escaping the eager clutches of the Weasley family; it's all been whisked up in time like nothing. I guess maybe it's because I've been enjoying myself, but I haven't. Fleur and Bill's wedding was the highlight of it, and even that lost its wonder when I started to hear them call each other pet names. With the weight of Sirius and Dumbledore's deaths in our minds, there hasn't been much reason to smile. And with Harry's flight to I don't know where. Of course, there've been happy moments: but they're like the flowery adornments you add to a piece of clothing to cover up a huge stain. They… don't feel like they have much meaning anymore.

And apart from that? No letters from Viktor this year, but I can't say I'm bothered. Ron was pleased when I told him this, but I can't think why. He just gets jealous around anyone who has something he hasn't - but that's Ron for you.

The Hogwarts Express pulls away from the station almost sluggishly, and I wave to my parents, turning round only to find there are no empty compartments. Grumbling to myself, I begin my epic journey to the Prefects carriage…

"No consideration for prefects…"

I stop abruptly outside the prefects carriage, and I open the door slowly. I can smell the hostility even from outside the compartment. Ron, Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, are looking at each other with fires burning in their eyes. Well, I'd better step in…

I flump down on a seat after cautiously, still sensing the suffocating silence, putting my luggage on the rack. Ron looks up, and gives me a huge, fake smile. Well, I did see him a week ago, but it'd be nice to have a proper welcome.

"Well, _hi_ there, Hermione."

"Hello, Ronald," I say icily; "having trouble pronouncing words?" If he treats me as an… object to agitate Malfoy, he can only expect the same manner in return.

There's cynical laughter from Malfoy's side of the compartment. I look up at him, and I can't help but feel a bit puzzled. And confused. He seems to be… laughing _with_ me.

"See? Even the Mudblood has a sense of humour, Weasley."

What do I say to that? I hate Malfoy; and siding with Ron doesn't have much appeal either, but I'd rather that than suggest that I _like_ the fact that Malfoy's on my side…

"Shut up, Malfoy, before we find a new and interesting way to make you sprout tentacles again." I say, in the exact way that I chided Ron. Good; that should put them both in their place.

Malfoy opens his mouth like some kind of wide mouthed frog, but he chokes on words that don't seem to exist. "Typical," he mutters finally; "I should have guessed that a Mudblood like yourself would throw away a chance to insult your blood-traitor _friend…_ If I ever complimented you, you'd just go throw it right back, wouldn't you? Pathetic."

Ron stands up and thrusts his wand in Malfoy's face, and I sink in my seat. They're so dumb. Why can't they just be subtle, instead of throwing punches whenever they can?"

"Maybe it's 'cause any compliment you give someone normally also involves the word 'Mudblood', Malfoy!"

"Will you two just _shut up?_" I say angrily. "If you think it's big to go name calling, Malfoy, then you need someone to look at your head; and Ron, if you think your feeble skills even begin to threaten our little Death Eater, then you're sadly mistaken, too!"

Oh… looks like the word 'Death Eater' touched a nerve for Malfoy. A vein pulses above his eye.

"What are you even doing here?" I lecture him, only just realising how disconcerting it feels to be sitting across the table from one. Its funny… because as much as I detest him, I don't consider Malfoy as… one of those.

Malfoy smiles smugly. "With Dumbledore gone, Granger, what are you going to do about it? Hogwarts don't know I'm coming back, but that just means if I pull a Snape on them, they'll welcome me back…"

I grunt. "Malfoy, have you hurt your head? Last term you -"

"-Didn't do anything," he finishes. "I never killed Dumbledore, they never saw the mark. They just know Snape killed him. Sure, Potter might have told them a tale… but whoever they believe, I'm entitled to my story, too."

It's disgusting. How can he even think of returning? How can he even begin to believe that they'll accept him back?

Pansy smirks over at me. "Draco was the first Slytherin to join up. I think that deserves applause, don't you?"

I can't believe my ears, even though it's Pansy and Malfoy I'm talking about…

"I think you're both pathetic! And repulsive!"

But there's absolutely nothing I can do without Harry. Ron and I… we're not right without the third member of our group. Where is Harry? What is he doing?

I hope he's alright…

He just took off. Overnight, he disappeared. At Bill and Fleur's wedding he was there, joining in with everything, blowing up balloons… (and I have a funny feeling some of them weren't balloons)… and then the next day, gone. I guess he apparated even without his test…

On the other side of the compartment, Pansy begins to snog Draco. Ronald and I exchange a glance, and I take out one of my school books.

When is the train going to stop?

**A/N: Hope you like. It's only a short first chapter, but it was only a short one to copy. Yes, Harry, Ron and Hermione do meet up. I guess you just have to read on for the showdown where they do meet up (MEETING: COMPLETE)**


	2. House Elf Dilemma

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Chapter Two

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Ron's POV

Ugh, Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. I knew something was going on but you'd think she would have better taste. I mean, she's not bad looking - but him? Don't let me get started. He's caused us enough grief other the last years and I don't need him pissing around with some girl who's lost her brains.

Hermione has closed her eyes from the life-sucking going on before us. Draco looks some kind of Dementor and Pansy's definitely doing CPR. Ew. I'd go and find Harry, but this year rules have been tightened and we're not allowed out of the Prefect's carriages. I'm not even sure if Harry's here this year, poor guy. He was cool enough at Fleur and Bill's wedding but I guess he's gone out and about now to 'do what has to be done' and go kill Voldemort by chopping him up into tiny little pieces. At least, that's the picture I got when he told us about Horcruxes last year. Maybe I'm just crazy.

Finally, we get the warning that the train is about to stop and I pull on my robes over my T-shirt and jeans. Hermione's being unusually quiet - I reckon she's gone into mind-acceleration mode again. She was amazing just a minute ago, telling Malfoy off like that.

"Hey - Hermione."

"Wha-?" She wakes up from her stupor. "Oh. We have to get changed already? Oh gracious, I better get ready."

I glare over at Pansy and Draco, who are still conducting The Dementor's Kiss upon one another. There's no way I'm telling them. It's funny, because I don't think Draco is enjoying this much. He seemed a bit distracted. I mean, Voldemort might be telling him to go out and do strange stuff, but he seemed really relaxed until Hermione came in.

Oh my god.

I hope she hasn't been round trying to advertise S.P.E.W to the Slytherins. Merlin's Beard! What if Malfoy's joined?

"What the hell was wrong with you just then?" I question suspiciously, staring at her through scrunched up eyes.

"Um, I was thinking, actually."

I jump. "God. It wouldn't be anything to do with house elves, would it?"

Hermione looks at me questioningly. "No, why? Are you finally thinking of participating in my group, then?"

"I'm in it already!" I moaned. What more did she want?

She raises her eyebrows just as the train judders to a halt. "Come on, let's get off the train." She grimaces as she walks up to Malfoy and taps him on the shoulder. "Oy - sink plunger, time to get off."

Malfoy, who would normally roll around on the floor moaning that he needed a wash after her touching him, looks confused for a moment and then pushes Pansy away. It's amazing how he can stay on the same seat as the girl for around two hours and just sit there playing tongue tennis. Okay, so me and Lavender were a bit like that - but I wasn't a repulsive git.

"Uh, okay," he says.

God, what the hell is wrong with him today?"

Note from author: To find out where Harry is and see where the plot thickens, read on till at least CHAPTER 4. That's when the plot deepens.


	3. Heart's Treasure

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Chapter Three

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Draco's POV

What the hell is up with me? Why am I stuttering like some kind of headless chicken? Okay, I've always enjoyed my own company, but it was going fine between me and Weasley, switching insults, until Granger came in. It was like all the fight had gone out of me. I actually went a sentence without saying 'Mudblood' to her. Exactly. It's complete crap, that's what it is.

When my father hears about this….

Or maybe not. I've found that my father can be annoying at times. Never spoiling me enough. He gets tiresome at times. Won't ever let me bring girls home. Thinks he's bigger than me, just because he got the mark first. Well, I'd just like to say that he isn't Voldemort's favourite person right now. Neither am I - and trust me, I have no desire to be - but Snape is, and Snape's on my side. HAH. One up on you, Father.

When I resurfaced from Pansy, I realised Granger had tapped me on the shoulder. And I didn't wash straight afterwards? God. Maybe I'm coming down with a cold?

I push Pansy away and struggle in super quick time into my robes, and then hurry after Granger and Weasley. I'll show them. Just got to catch up. I whip my wand out of my jeans pocket, ready to fire a hex at Granger just to prove that I'm not going crazy, but they're lost to sight. Great. I board one of the carriages impatiently, knowing that Pansy is quick on my tail, and soon I'll have my lap full again.

I never use to tire of her attention. Not until now, anyway. Not until Granger turned up, anyway. My insides churn at the thought of her name.

Oh. My. God.

It couldn't be that, right? I've fancied girls before, but the Mudblood's my frickin' worst enemy's best friend! I mean, who wouldn't fancy girls? And then again, who would fancy Miss Insufferable Know-It-All? Not me. Nope. Definitely not me. I gotta wash. NOW. Hell, where's the sink in these carriages? Argh! I can see her frickin' teeth now, when she told me I was a sink-plunger. And her eyes.

Argh!

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

She told me I was a sink-plunger. It's funny, 'cause I find that offensive, but I'm feeling kind of happy, too. Like it's brilliant that she actually she talked to me. In fact - she touched me, too. A tap on the shoulder. Hm.

She couldn't have slipped me some kind of Love potion, right?

Oh no. I thought the 'L' word. When you begin thinking that, you know it's bad, right? Really. Bad. I hope Voldemort kills me soon. I know, I'll do something stupid. Really stupid. And then he'll have no choice, and then I won't have to keep reliving that glorious, wonderful moment in third year when she punched me in the face.

Somebody help me. Now.

Pansy plonks herself on the seat beside me, eyes glittering, and the horseless carriage begins to move.

"What did you hurry off for, Draco?"

"I wanted to hex the Mudblood," I snarl. "But she was already in one of the carriages." Oh, god. I wanted to hex someone, but it wasn't Granger. Pansy, perhaps.

"That's a pity," mutters Pansy. "Anyhow, why are you back at Hogwarts? Why aren't you with the Great Lord? I thought you said this place was too small for your ambitions."

I struggle uncomfortably. Where to begin, where to begin?

"You may have noticed our dear friend Potter wasn't present today," I start. "The Dark Lord believes he has some knowledge to his position, and he needs my help from inside Hogwarts. Hogwarts never got round to expelling me last year, and there's a lot of useful items the Dark Lord wishes to possess. Also, I came back here to see if someone - er, if someone was interested in going out with me."

Where the hell did that come from?

Pansy smiles, a seductive look spreading across her face. "Draco, I thought you would _never_ ask…"

Not you, you blood sucking leech! Granger!

I didn't just think that, right? I didn't just think what I think I did? Oh. My. God. I've got far more important things to do this year than think about girls. I know where Potter was over summer, and I need the tools at Hogwarts to find out his next position. That's the only reason I'm here now, with this insufferable flobberworm of a girl, who spends far too much time giving me flirty looks and not enough time about doing her hair so she looks remotely good-looking. Go out with Pansy Parkinson? It's old news. I just haven't got round to telling her she's dumped.

I open my mouth to tell her to leave me alone, but she's latched on again and I sit there moodily for the rest of the journey. Hogwarts comes into view but Pansy does not notice. I do, though. How could I miss it? Hogwarts is going to play a major part in The Great Lord's domination of the wizarding community, and the murder of Harry Potter. Hopefully.

And my first victim?

Moaning Myrtle.

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Make sure you review this, I've got a good feeling about where this is going.


	4. Boy versus Wolf

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Chapter 4

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Harry's POV

I'm in London, but I'm nowhere Platform Nine and Three Quarters - yet how I wish I was.

I turn the map in my hands around, confused. Where is Godric's Hollow? I found it just a minute ago, but a second later it's lost to sight amidst the yellow and pink squiggles marking A-Roads and what have you. I don't think I'll ever bother with these; broomsticks and apparition are SO much easier than driving.

I know I've missed the Hogwarts Express but I can't help feeling that maybe, just maybe, I'd be allowed to come back - but I know that I can't do that. I need to know things - things only Dumbledore would've been able to tell me. Like, where the hell is Godric's Hollow? And doesn't he have any idea where these frickin Horcruxes are? And why aren't Ron and Hermione with me, helping me through this? They said they would.

But that's before they started flirting.

I don't think either of them are even aware of it - but they must be blind not to notice that they're constantly both eyeing each other up!

I hope they OWL me.

Just think. This year, I might be taking my NEWTS, if this is over and done with quickly. If the school will have me back, seeing as, strictly speaking, I am truanting.

I've never done that before.

Oh, for god's sake! Why couldn't Dumbledore have filled me in with his theories? He must've had them, talked about them, in his office. But here I am, in a busy Underground Station in London, reading a map I can't make sense of, and scanning the skies for any sign of communication from Ron or Hermione. But there's nothing, and I've begun to get funny looks. I guess I look too much like I'm skipping work or school - after all, I still look young enough to still be attending school.

It's clicked. I've got it.

Dumbledore's office - I don't know why I didn't think of it before! The Order's Headquarters are mine - and I'm betting Phineas is still hanging around. I'll have to ask him where Godric's Hollow is. Phew. I'm glad that's out of the way.

I climb from the steps of the underground, and through the packed streets of London until I go through an alley and out into a deserted street - perhaps because there's no shops down here. All the houses windows are boarded up and there's a sign saying with a newspaper cutting that reads: _Houses Demolished to Make Way for Motorway._

Ah well, I think. Bad stuff happens. And with that thought, I stick my wand arm out. With a purple streak, the Knight Bus comes into view. Wow - quickest time yet. I wonder how close it was?

"Name?" Comes the familiar voice of Stan Shunpike. He looks up, and a grin splits his face in two. "Well, what 'ave we 'ere? It en't Harry again? I've seen you in the paper's again! They sure 'ave changed their tune, eh, Ern?"

"Hey, Stan," I say automatically. "They let you out of Azkaban, then."

"Oh, yeah!" Stan says happily. "All on account of a certain person called, er, Rufus Scrimgeour. Well, I don't believe that for one sekkind. That guy had it in for me from the start. Anyways, Ern said he'll have me back for the time being. So where are you goin'?"

"Er, can you go to Grimmauld Place?"

"Sure," says a wickedly maniacal Stan. "Why yous wanna go there, though, I can't fathom. Horrid place, it is."

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I clamber out of the Knight Bus feeling that familiar urge to retch. I still can't stomach it's speed or jerkiness. It feels like someone just made me eat my insides…

But here I am - Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. My property now. That scares me slightly. I haven't been here since… since, well, it doesn't matter. It's not relevant. Anyhow, I walk through the door without shaking. All is well. As long as no one is here, and I don't for one minute believe that. I shut the door quietly, knowing full well that Lupin, Hagrid, Mrs Weasley… they could all be aware of my presence. With that in mind, I leg it up the stairs and go up onto the first floor, leaning over the banister.

"That's strange," mutters a voice - Lupin's? - from down below. "I could've sworn someone just came in. I heard the door close."

"What?" Well, I known that voice. Tonks. "I didn't hear anything. Want me to check upstairs, Remus?"

"I'll do it."

Oh dear.

I leg it up the second set of stairs, begging silently to myself that I won't be seen. I'm not sure why. Because they'll want to know what I'm doing? Because they'll want to know why? Because they'll tell me off for not going back to Hogwarts? I don't know. I keep running, until I come to the familiar door that used to be mine and Ron's room. I fling open the door, hitch myself up on my bed, and look closely at the portrait.

"Phineas?"

No response.

"Phineas Nigellus?"

No response.

I sigh. "Phineas Nigellus _Sir,_ O greatest Headmaster who ever did live?"

"Yes?"

Phineas' image swims into view. He looks rather disgruntled.

"I need to know some things, and I think you might know them."

Phineas glares at me, examining me closely. "Aren't you supposed to be at school? Professor McGonagall's very worried, you know. Thinks you've gone off to fight the Great Lord or do something of the like. I have to admit, it's the kind of senseless thing a teenager would do. So, what do you need to know, and why shouldn't I tell McGonagall where you really are?"

I look at him sourly. "First, I don't care whether Professor McGonagall knows where I am. I've come of age now and whether I've passed my Apparition test or not, I'll be gone as soon as she gets here. But secondly, _Sir,_ I'd like to know where Godric's Hollow is. Can't find it on the map. And also, I'd like to know if you heard any of Dumbledore's plans concerning Voldemort while he was still alive."

Phineas looks at me, as though weighing me up. "I could always ask Albus' portrait. But for now, I'll agree to be your correspondent if you keep the same amount of manners you possess now. As to your second point, I don't know where Godric's Hollow is. If you'll remember, I'm a portrait. Portraits don't exactly get the opportunity to travel around as much as the living. And as to your third, I believe the thing you are looking for, according to some of the late Headmaster's mutterings, might well be at Godric's Hollow. It'll be on the map. You just might have to get a _wizard's map._" Phineas rolls his eyes. _"_It was too well protected to be kept on a muggle map. And seeing as you appear to be at Headquarters, I'd say this is the perfect opportunity to get one."

"And where do they keep them?" I don't expect an answer, but Phineas seems to have been lonely over summer or something. Poor guy. I'd get a bit lonely, too.

"Drawing room. They'll definitely have one of Godric's Hollow, believe you me. My… Sirius used… to be their Secret Keeper. And now… leave."

I do as I am bid, but I can't help noticing that Phineas seems to be more than a little remorseful at the loss of Sirius. So am I.

I come out of the room, forgetting about Professor Lupin's search for me.

I bump straight into him.

For a moment, neither of us can speak. Then:

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

Author's Note: Eek! The plot thickens. Please R&R ASAP, otherwise I will explode in anticipation.


	5. Letters To Harry

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Chapter Five

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Hermione's POV

I look down at the letter in my hand. Next to me, Ron is also trying to put our curiosities into words.

_Dear Harry, _I read,

_Where are you? I know what you said last year, but Ron and I agreed that we'd be there with you. So, that's what was going to happen. I thought you'd at least turn up for the start of the year, and then leave with us. _

_However, I'm prepared to forgive if you'll write back as soon as possible with your whereabouts. I know that might be tricky to put in writing for you, but it was just a thought. I'm aware of the risks of interception, because it seems the Ministry's just as interested in you as before, and it doesn't help that you've been clearly unfriendly to the minister. However, I'm not going to criticise the whole way through. How are you? It must be really tough. I'm so glad I saw you at Fleur and Bill's wedding, but when you left, the Weasleys were in an uproar. I can only guess that you apparated - and I'm not sure whether I approve of that or not._

_We all what to know how you are, Harry. Nothing else really matters. If this whole quest to stop Voldemort is going to make you this down, maybe you should consider involving others. I know you can't give up - but you're not alone Harry. You just have to remember it._

_Love, Hermione._

Somehow, it seems like I'm nagging him too much again. But that's my fifth attempt and it's too late to try again. I look over at Ron.

"Got anything?" I sigh. He rolls his eyes back.

"God, I never thought writing to a mate would be so hard. It's like writing an essay. Here, swap." She exchanged her letter with his, and began reading hard.

_Harry mate,_

_Where are you? I guess you've gone out to do the whole saving-the-world thing, but you missed out on one hell of a feast. McGonagall excelled herself, and so did the house-elves _(I glare at Ron).

_Back to my first question - where are you? And how are you? I thought you were going to let us come along with you, but we were really worried when you vanished in the middle of the night. It was scary - like you didn't want to be around. Mum was in tears. _(That had been hastily scribbled out - and wisely.)

_I guess Hermione's gone on about how you should get support or thought of some kind of genius solution, but until now, I'd be happy to get out of NEWT classes and tag along after you. I won't be wanting a main part in all of the heroics, though. You can do that. I guess you're more up for it than me._

_Your mate, Ron._

_P.S. Bill and Fleur send their love. Yeuch, I'd better watch out from now on, mate._

I laugh. At least Ron's is somewhat light-hearted.

"Oh well," I sigh. "I think that's the best we're going to do. I don't have any suggestions, even though it is like a homework essay. I guess we're just going to have to send them like this, and hope that Harry gets the message: we're worried. Everyone's worried. Besides, that thing about your mum is still legible, and Harry isn't as thick as two short planks."

"Whatever you say," yawns Ron, and turns away. Two seconds later, he rounds on me again. "Hermione. You don't think Malfoy was a little … distracted earlier, do you?"

I go red with anger. Ugh! Malfoy! I hate him so much. I can't believe he has the cheek to return back to school after what happened last year. What he did. The person he killed - or may as well have.

"I don't care about bloody Draco bloody Malfoy!" I growl. "Distracted? Yeah, a bit, but that's probably because Pansy was sucking his brains out, and he was busy doing the same to her. Ugh. Sick-making. Thanks, Ron, I'm going to stay awake all night tonight feeling nauseous."

To my surprise, Ron chuckles. "Finally," he says, "I think you're beginning to understand why me and Harry always accuse Malfoy of stuff instead of telling the truth."

"Yes," I say angrily. "That I am!"

"Good," he laughs. "It's taken you seven years!"

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Note from Author: Things are going to get sticky at Hogwarts….

And can I just add that this is MY version of the 7th book, written before it was published, therefore although all of this is property of JK Rowling, the story itself is mine, and I will …. Do something if anyone steals it.


	6. Verbal Problems

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Chapter Six

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Ron's POV

It's strange how although Harry's my best mate, I feel like he's so distant from me and Hermione. And I don't mean that as in, "you're ten miles away from me". I'm talking about that fact now he's gone off and done his own thing, and we're left here at Hogwarts, he seems to be getting older by the day, if you know what I mean. It's like, Harry's great to be around with - the best mate anyone could ask for, in fact - but recently he's lost a load of people who weren't as close to me as they were to him, and it's kind of depressing knowing that. At Bill and Fleur's wedding, it was great. Harry was happy. I was happy. Everyone was happy, including Ginny. And then Harry goes and does a runner and leaves us all wondering whether it's our fault.

I'm sorry, but that's not fair. Maybe I'll send another letter, graphically and in detail describing how Harry's become a miserable old git. A miserable old git who just happens to be my best mate - but still, a miserable old git.

Yeah. I think I'll do that.

I wander up to our dormitory, happy that Hermione and I are getting on so well. That's really, really rare. We're normally always poking fun at each other, and we always seem to start arguing. Maybe it's the absence of Harry, the only one who can stop us arguing, and rarely at that, or maybe it's 'cause suddenly it seems very likely that we'll all be killed by Death Eaters. You never know. I've heard of those sudden "never arguing relationships" that sprout in times of danger. It's funny, 'cause until now, I've always thought that was a load of crap.

"That was some feast," groans Seamus as I enter the dorm. "I'm really, really full. McGonagall can be good at partying, right?"

"Yeah, but Dumbledore was the life and soul of the party, know what I mean?" I respond grimly. "And they say he was the only one You-Know-Who ever feared, right? I mean, McGonagall's clever all right, but she's not a patch on Dumbledore."

"I agree," says Neville somewhere from behind an open trunk sprouting all kinds of laundry. "Gran has been really glum over summer. It was a huge relief to come back to Hogwarts. Uncle Algie was away, so I didn't spend any time hanging out windows, either." That gets a laugh.

"And that's a good thing or a bad thing?" Chortles Dean.

"So… where's Harry, Ron? Or is he still downstairs? It's funny - 'cause I didn't see him at the feast, either." Asks Neville. My face darkens.

Dean, Seamus and Neville look at me, awaiting their answer. I decide - I've known these people for years now. Neville's confessed one of his biggest secrets to me, so I might as well tell them.

"Harry's not coming back this year," I say glumly. "It's just the four of us."

"WHAT?" Say the other three incredulously. Dean curses.

"Why?" Seamus inquires. I look at him, brow furrowed.

"I dunno. He did a runner the day after my brother's wedding, and I haven't heard of him since. He did say he wasn't coming back though. I guess he's gone to do his saving the world thing."

"Wow. You don't mean…"

"You…"

"Know…"

"Who?"

They all say together.

Oh, god. I can't help myself. My mouth is just too big and my want to prove myself just too strong. Well, it's not exactly my fault…

"Well, Harry had meetings with Dumbledore last year to help with You-Know-Who. And he - I mean, I'm _guessing_, that he found out how to do it. And he was there when Dumbledore died, as well. And at the Ministry. So, uh, yeah."

I stop myself before I can say anything else completely and utterly stupid.

"Wow…" Says Seamus.

"Harry and You-Know-Who…" gasps a wide-eyed Neville.

"Amazing," says Dean as he shakes his head. "I know he's done it before, but this is like… wow."

"Whatever," I say hastily. "Just get some sleep."

Oh crap. I'm sure I haven't given much away, but I'm never going to hear the end of this. Maybe I can fold them all into a little package and send them to Harry so they can worship him away from me?

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Note from author: Malfoy's got something interesting to say next…


	7. Orders From Snape

-1----------------------

Chapter 7

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Draco's POV

'_Legilmens!'_

There's a rush of colour, of thoughts. I can see an empty portrait, hear it talking. Nothing of use. Something about a map, but Potter's fighting back. The talking is faint. Another flash of colour and a familiar face is staring at me, the face of a werewolf. He looks surprised - hurt and shocked, and if possible, sad. Good. Maybe Potter's killed him. It's no good. Potter's fighting back to well: the picture fades, and the words exchanged are lost.

I can hear Potter's voice: '_Protego!'_

Darkness.

Oh great. I never knew that Potter knew how to fight and use Occlumency. I guess it's a tough world. I'll have to catch him while he's asleep - maybe I can deduce more then.

I look up. I'm in my dormitory in the Slytherin Common Room, completely awake and bored of the dark. I get up, toss a robe over myself (it's too cold for just pyjamas), and walk into the common room. I never did like it much but…

I kneel down by the fire place, and a face emerges.

"Draco," It sneers. "I've been waiting for a long time now."

I look down into the face of Snape, and shoot him a reproving look. "You were right. They haven't expelled me - yet." I say grudgingly. "But it's only a matter of time."

"Yes, but we must prevail for now, Draco. Have you tried searching Potter's thoughts."

"I'm not stupid!" I say contemptibly. "There was nothing of use. Remus Lupin, and a picture on the wall. But then he protected himself using a shield charm and I lost it." I kick at an armchair forcefully.

"Remus Lupin?" Says Snape, surprised. "Interesting, interesting. Never mind, Draco. Indeed, though it pains me to say it, Potter has a good mind and a vast knowledge. He is tricky, Malfoy, but we mustn't let that ruin it for us."

"So, what do I do now?"

"I believe you made an alliance with one of the ghosts here? Well. First, it would be helpful to have someone tracking those two pests Weasley and Granger" (my heart gave a pang) "and have her report back. Meanwhile, I believe the Vanishing Cabinet may still be functional. It can be used to smuggle useful things into Hogwarts. You know the Great Lord wishes both Granger, Weasley, and McGonagall dead. Well, these are my first assignments you, Draco - and good luck."

His head vanished.

Well, that had been helpful. NOT.

Killing people was much easier said than done. And it wasn't just the courage you had to muster - it was the fact that there was an awful lot of planning involved, and you always had to have a back up plan, just in case. Stressful work, killing people.

Weasley I had no problem with. And McGonagall - she was an annoyance. But Granger? Hm. Granger. What about her? There's nothing about her I'm interested in. Nothing at all. Zilch. Zero. Sweet FA. Well, maybe…

NO! For god's sake, just get on with it before the Great Lord decides to test you on how good you are at Occlumency. He'll soon find out about your crus - no! Non-existent relationship - and your doubts, I tell myself desperately. I run back into my dormitory and try to wipe my mind clean, just in case. The Great Lord will be interested to why I'm not letting hear my thoughts - but it's far better than letting him see them.

Okay, I'm tired now. Honest.

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Note from Author: And find out about what's going to happen to Harry… tomorrow! Bwahahahahah! Please R & R. Eternally grateful, SP.


	8. The Boy Who Lived

-1-------------------------

Chapter 8

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Harry's POV

My wand is in my hand. I'm ready to apparate. Away - away from Lupin and the inevitable interrogation afterwards. But I stay my hand. I need to find a map.

"I'm… I'm…" I begin, but I'm at a loss what to say. What to tell him? Everything Dumbledore told me to keep secret?

But all of a sudden there's no need to think of an answer, because I can feel the familiar sensation of someone intruding in my thoughts. I raise my wand, and for a moment it looks like Lupin thinks I'm aiming a spell at him - until I yell _Protego! _with all my might, and the sensation is gone. The force of the shield impacting so quickly and forcefully against my wand propels me back against the wall - near the stairs.

And feeling guilty, confused and determined, I sprint down them as fast as I can. Lupin looks surprised for a moment before dashing down after me. But he's not looking so good, and I'm in perfect condition. I'm a fast runner.

In my haste I knock Tonks over. I can vaguely hear her call after me, but I lose focus on her words as I run into the drawing room, shutting the door silently after me. I know they'll be searching the doors down here, so I duck behind a chair and whip out my invisibility cloak from my pocket. Ever since I did a runner at the Weasley's, I've kept it handy.

The door opens and Lupin looks around, followed by Tonks. He's staring right at the spot I am, brow furrowed. Thankfully, he turns around back to the curtains, staring suspiciously. "Harry…" He mutters. Almost pleadingly. I think he knows I'm in here; after all, he has some knowledge of my invisibility cloak. After all - it used to be my dad's. I can just hope that he thinks I probably don't have it with me.

"I don't think he's here, Remus…" Says Tonks from the doorway. She's stopped looking around. "What the hell is he doing here anyway? I thought he was at Hogwarts?"

"Well, no one knew," begins Professor Lupin conversationally. Yep. He definitely knows I'm here. "Keeps getting away from the people following him. Anyway, I think you're right. Let's look somewhere else."

He said that far too loudly for my liking.

Almost cowering behind the sofa until I'm sure they're gone, I tip-toe across the floor to the cabinet and pull open one of the drawers. There are so many pieces of parchment here, it's hard to tell which one is of the place I need. I sort through them endlessly. A pile of scrolls and maps lie on the floor beneath my feet; who cares if anyone finds the mess? They already know I'm here, so it'll be no surprise that they can see where I am.

Suddenly, my eye catches a ink-blotted piece of parchment dotted all over with spidery, flowing handwriting. There are so many notes here, a lot in some kind of different language, but I can pick out something through them: Godric's Hollow. And I know the route. It's complicated, but through the reams of different addresses I can see just where I'm headed. I look more closely at the parchment. There are only specific addresses. Could this be a map of people from the Order of The Phoenix? Yes. That matches. Each address has been written by a different hand - so that must be each of the Secret Keepers. I look in interest. There's a date in the right hand corner, some sixteen years previously. This must have been written a year after Voldemort was supposedly killed. A year after I obtained my scar.

My interest doesn't last for long, though. I stuff the map in my pocket, turn from the drawing room with my cloak still on, and open the door. I sneak out. Tonks and Lupin aren't looking: I don't know where they are. Silently, I move down the corridor and attempt to exit number 12, Grimmauld Place.

No success. I try desperately to turn the handle but to no avail. Then I turn round, and Lupin is staring straight at me, as though he can see through my guise. His hand reaches out - grasps the material, and the cloak slides off.

"Harry?"

I turn my head to the floor. "Yes, Professor…?"

Lupin shakes his head. "Why are you here, Harry? We've been in an uproar. No one knew where you were - not even Ron and Hermione, as I know from a good supply of Veritaserum - you could've been dead, Harry. I thought you were brighter than that. I'm… disappointed."

I've always liked Lupin, but that's out of order. I'm doing this for Dumbledore! For the whole world. No one else knows what to do - but the minute someone finds out, they're picked on from all sides, and pried for knowledge. I erupt.

"Why? What have I done? So, I'm out of Hogwarts. Big deal. I have better things to do now. Fred and George did the same but oh, no - when they did it it was 'Oh, cool, they've stopped attending Hogwarts and set up a joke shop. Fine by me', -- but the minute I try, it's a completely different matter. I'm doing this because of what Dumbledore told me last year. I'm trying to finish this, for everyone. And as for not telling anyone? Well, what was communicated between him and me, was between him and me. He didn't want anyone else to know."

Lupin looks at me questioningly. "Minerva said something of the sort last year. But what was passed between you could be vital, Harry. And… you're not alone in this. You have friends. You have the Order -- we're here to help, not to hinder."

I take a deep breath. "Well, I'm sorry. I want… I mean, I'd like to be on my own now, thanks."

Lupin looks at the parchment in the pocket of my jeans curiously. Then he sighs. "As your former teacher, Harry," he sighs, "I feel I must go with you for this. I'm not sure Molly would approve if I let you wander off like this. She'll be hysterical. And, well, otherwise… I'm going to have to inform Hogwarts."

I set my jaw stubbornly. "You weren't here for me any of the other times I met Voldemort face to face, sir," I say quietly, "and I want to be alone."

Before he has time to respond I take my wand out again, and Apparition test or not, I pop out of existence to him, and into the busy streets of London.

I take the map out of my back pocket, and study it. I'm going to have to catch a few buses and then walk a good way, but I'm prepared to do that. This is important to me. We're not talking about me doing things for other people this time. This is… this is for me.

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Note from Author: Please review that! Tell me if it could have been better. See what happens at Godric's Hollow next chapter featuring Harry. Or WILL you? Sorry. Must stop saying that.

OR SHOULD I?


	9. Hermione Supermodel!

-1

Chapter 9

Hermione's POV

I look out of my window almost wistfully. I'm at Hogwarts again, and through all the torment and sadness the world seems to be suffering, I'm feeling happy because of that. Seven years ago 'happy' might've been something I looked up in a book to find the definition of, but when you're with Harry and Ron, you learn that happy is something that can only be found through oneself, with others. Not through books.

"Hey, Hermione. You look happy. So… who is it? Who's the lucky boy?" Says Parvati behind me gleefully. I turn around, surprised.

"I'm just.. Happy. Completely happy that I'm here," I respond, smiling. Lavender raises her eyebrows.

"Whatever!" She says. "You might not even know it yet, but I bet there is someone you're happy about."

I turn back to the sill, happiness temporarily forgotten. What could she mean? Maybe… maybe she's right. Parvati has been studying me closely; she turns around and winks at Lavender, and stifles a giggle.

"So, who is it, Hermione? You can tell us."

"I'm… I'm not sure."

I really am confused now. What am I trying to do? Anyone be interested in me? Hermione Granger? Muggle-born, bushy hair?

No. Wait a minute. I can do something about that.

"Hey, Lavender. Can I borrow some of your cosmetics?"

Parvati doubles up. "Ah - Hermione. Welcome to our world. We've been persuading you for ages - it's taken you seven years!"

I grin sheepishly. What am I doing? But before I can move, Parvati and Lavender have stood around me, eyes seemingly glittering malevolently, and our dormitory is temporarily turned into a beauty saloon.

-----------------------------------

As I sit down next to Ron, he soon hushes up. A few of the boys' mouths have fallen open, and I suddenly blush. Parvati and Lavender, still laughing, move down the table, whispering: "Go get 'em, girl…"

"Hi, Ron."

Ron starts munching on his kippers again as if nothing has happened. "Um, looking, er, different today, Hermione?"

"Um, a bit." I say. Over the other side of the table, Dean Thomas goggles at me.

"Hey, Hermione. You look nice," he says.

Phew. I was beginning to wonder if they had drawn a lipstick moustache on me.

"Thanks." I say. "New year - new practices."

"Oh yeah," snorts Ron. "And I guess this is for a Muggle Studies homework."

I shoot him a look that could burn through the table.

"Uh, but for the record, you look… good."

He says that in a very strange manner indeed; but wisely, he's dodged the oncoming death I had waiting for him. I smile, well aware of how different I look. "That was a good thing to say," I say, playing with a wisp of loose, but straight hair. Straight hair. Parvati - I love you and your muggle technology.

"Umm, what's our first lesson?" Asks Ron, oblivious to the fact his time table is right in front of us. I sigh, get out my own, and say;

"Potions. God. Finally, I can get my title back as best student in Potions, rather than Harry."

Ron grins, and I glance at him suspiciously. "No chance, Hermione. Harry left me this before he legged it." He waves the Half Blood Prince's book in one hand. I almost snarl with his ignorance.

"But Ron - you know who's that is now! How can you keep it?"

"So? It makes me feel better, _actually_, knowing that I'm benefiting from Snape's misfortune."

I growl.

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I can't believe that a day at Hogwarts could be so stressful. My hair seems to be desperately trying to go back to its normal electrocuted look with the complete and utter exhaustion I feel. I slump down in the common room, near the fire. I have one free period now - and then it's back to my N.E.W.T classes to toil. Oh, joy.

Ron slumps in the armchair next to me.

"Hello," I say glumly.

"Hi," he yawns. "I feel like I've just got out of bed. I mean, how was I supposed to read Snape's handwriting? I thought it said 'bottled lies' not 'toad's lies'. I'm crap at reading his writing. Harry should have kept the book."

"Yes," I say simultaneously. "It certainly would've have been useful to him. Anyway. Did you mean to blow up the cauldron and turn it to acid?"

"Uh, no…" Mutters Ron dejectedly.

I laugh. "Ron, you're one in a million, you know!"

Did I just say that?

DID I JUST SAY THAT?

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Note from Author: See Harry's response in the… NEXT CHAPTER FEATURING HERMIONE! Bwahahahahah!


	10. Lupin's Woes

-1Chapter Ten

Lupin's POV

I look into the empty space where Harry stood, only moments ago. A deep sadness claws at my heart. A few years ago, I felt sure Harry would confide almost anything to me - now, it seems that not only is he fighting Voldemort, but the whole world. I guess he just doesn't know he's doing it.

There's been so much uproar - so many rumours about him. The Chosen One. Well - to be honest, I don't know what to believe. I think both Harry and Dumbledore were hiding things last year - besides, Harry was with him when Dumbledore died. Minerva's tried asking him what happened, but again she is met with a stony silence; is there no getting through to him? We may be older. We may sound like we're wiser. But, Harry - can't you see? We're just like you. We're fighting for the same cause, and we're all routing for you. Hell, without you, we'd be useless. I know how you're feeling - I lost James and Sirius, too - but for god's sake… you're acting like… acting like… a moody teenager!

Tonks comes up behind me.

"What the hell was Harry doing here? Or am I just going funny in the head?"

"You are funny in the head, my dear," I say, putting on a grim smile. "And yes, he was here. He seems to be going after Voldemort on his own." Tonks' eyes widen, and I pat her gently on the back. "He's not like the Harry he was a year ago. I think Dumbledore's death lies heavy on him."

"Yeah, and Sirius'. Geeze, Remus. That kid has been some seriously tough times. I hope you cut him some slack."

Well, that's a different perspective. I sigh. "Maybe you should've done the talking. I told him he should be back at Hogwarts and that I'd inform Minerva and then - well, then he apparated."

"Remus! You are a _hopeless _case, you know?" But she laughs fondly. "At least we can tell Molly before she goes off her head. And, who knows? Next time we see Harry, he might stay long enough to have a little party with us!"

"But…"

"Shut up!"

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Note from Author: Seeing as Lupin's not going to play a major part, I'm only inserting various SMALL chapters, just to update you about what's going on in the Order. OR WILL I? Mwahahah. Yours, Strange Principles.


	11. Gerroffme!

-1------------------------

Chapter Eleven

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Note from Author: Meep! Eleven chapters in one week. -Proud- Well, enjoy the next chapters as the plot in Hogwarts begins to thicken.

Ron's POV

What a strange thing for Hermione to say. And I mean STRANGE! Could it… could it… no…

But the fact remains that now she looks completely mortified. That has to be a good sign, right? Or… is it good? I've never considered this happening. But then again, what exactly is 'this'? 'This' could be completely non-existent…

Oh come on, Ron. That's just crap. You know what she means.

I cough. No - maybe that wasn't a good idea. No - wait - Hermione, don't go! Then I smile. She smiles back, and sits back down, extracting a towering load of homework.

"Geeze, Hermione. How much homework have you got? We've had _two_ lessons."

"Oh. This? It isn't homework. The bottom half is notes for S.P.E.W., two sheets in the middle are homework and the top… the top is, um…"

"What?" I demand. She looks a little flustered. Well, Hermione's main traits for hiding things are deliberately not looking at you, going red and then turning to a pile of notes. It's funny - 'cause I've never picked up on that before. But as she turns away, I grab a piece of paper from the top and stare, goggle-eyed at it.

"Geeze, Hermione!"

_Dear Hermione,_

_I've never been much good at writing letters. But, here we go. I'm trying. I'd just like to say that this is probably in addition to a load of letters you've received today, 'cause you're really beautiful, did you know? And I'd be really happy if you'd accompany me to Hogsmeade next time we go._

_Until then, Cormac McLaggen._

"McLaggen? So, these aren't exactly from well-wishers then! All the people who wrote these are probably completely crazy. They only want one thing, probably -"

"I think that's enough, Ron," Hermione says curtly. "That's not the point. Just because they've sent me notes, doesn't mean that I'm -"

"_They?_"

Hermione coughs, and reaches almost casually for the pile beside her, but I reach out and grab it first. I rifle through the pieces of parchment, to find that they are all love notes or something of the sort. Whatever. They all contain flirty messages - so that makes them love notes.

"Ron! Give that back!" She says desperately. "Or I'll -"

"Give me detention?" I retort back rudely, remembering Fred or George say something of the like last year. Can't remember which.

"No," she says in a darkly significant voice. "I'll leave you to find out what I'll do."

Hm. I might just take her up on that.

I take out another piece of parchment, and begin reading loudly.

"_Dear Hermione…"_

"Ron, I'm going to count down to one…"

She's simmering with complete anger. Uh-oh. Danger sign. But somehow, I can't stop. It's that fat mouth of mine again, spouting a load of rubbish.

"_You're looking fabulous today…"_

"Five."

"_I've never realised just how…"_

"Four."

"… _gorgeous you are."_

"Three!"

"_From your first and foremost admirer…"_

"Two."

"_George Tickson…"_

"One!"

"_P.S; Bet you're a great snogger…"_

And like wildfire she launches herself at me and I try to turn away, or to force a shield charm out of my battered, yet new wand. But hell, there's no stopping Hermione when she's in a fury. Argh! She's getting closer. Who knows what the hell she's planning to do? I can see her, looking as if she's about to punch my lights out. She leans forward…

And begins snogging my brains out.

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Note from Author: Took a great deal of courage to write that, XD. Now R & R, before I have a heart attack in anticipation.


	12. Eavesdropping

-1-----------------------

Chapter Twelve

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Note from Author: Argh! If I could express my emotions, this'd be rated T for bad language. I've just realised that my times are completely out. So, let's presume that when Harry met Lupin, it was night, whatever was said before, like when Malfoy saw him. And Ron and Hermione were talking in the tense of the next DAY, so that's why they've been a bit slow-moving. However, Malfoy is now in 'the next day', and so will Harry be soon in the next chapter. Phew. Thanks, SP. ¬¬

So, just to make sure you understand the time zones, Malfoy is on the morning where Hermione has her amazing transformation.

Malfoy's POV

I look round the corner and dodge out from behind a suit of armour. I'm not really sure whether I should be at Hogwarts. I never got a letter, but there was no reason I shouldn't come. It's the reason I'm not throwing my weight around with the first years. And the fact that I have to focus on finding Weasley and Granger unawares. I know I'm capable of Unforgivable Curses… it's just, not with someone like -

I sit down at the Slytherin Table next to Pansy, and cast swift glances over to the Gryffindor table. Why isn't she there? Weasley's there alright - just a glance and it's like he's got a load of towering flames atop his head. Lanky git. But why isn't she there? She's always on time. Always - with no exception. She couldn't have had a tragic accident, could she? I've heard the stairs in the Gryffindor Common Room can be pretty steep. What if she fell, and broke her neck? What if the girls turned on her and tried to -

Argh! Stop thinking about her, Draco, before you tear all of your gorgeous blond hair out.

And there she is.

She's hardly recognisable, really, but loads - no, tons - more beautiful, with the aid of muggle cosmetics. My jaw is ready to drop. Doesn't she know exactly how wonderful she looks? No. Wonderful is such a little word. Completely insignificant to such a … exquisite person. As she comes down the steps, she smiles. Oh, god. That smile, with those newly straight teeth that I caused. Me. She has me to thanks for something.

Pansy looks at me in annoyance.

"Didn't you hear what I just said, Draco?"

"Uh, no…"

"Well - just look at Granger. What's she trying to be? Another Cho or Ginny? She's been a nerd way too long for that, muggle freak…"

"Er, yeah…"

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"_Legilmens!"_

She's angry, I can tell that as much. Weasley's face swims into view, and he seems to be getting satisfaction out of annoying her. I snarl. Lanky git! How many times do I have to think that before he gets the picture that I think he's a bloody lanky… git?

And now she's counting down, really angry -- and he appears to be completely oblivious. She gets to one, announcing it's his last chance, and he reads again. And then, then she lunges forward and --

Kisses him?

No way! This can't be happening! Weasley and Granger? She's going out with that blood-traitor, when she could be seeing me? It's unbearable! Someone tell me this isn't happening - for my own sanity. Let me go and hex Weasley, now.

I said NOW.

I pull out of Granger's thoughts with a sneer. She's betrayed me. She was supposed to be going out with me… or was she? Well. Either way, she's betrayed me -- whether she knew it or not. If I was a romantic then I'd say she'd broken my heart, but seeing as I'm not, I'll stick with betrayal, the lying little Mudblood. I reach for my wand, as if I can jinx her from the Slytherin Common Room, but I know it's no good. Maybe I can send her a note or something, and if she rejects me… well, it'll be the last thing she'll do. And the last thing that Weasley ever did was let me see that. I'll see how his Blood-traitor family and new girlfriend like it when they find out he was found dead in his bed…

The world is going to pay for what's happened to Draco Malfoy. For what's happening.

And so is everyone he ever hated and loved.

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Note from author: Eek! Harry's turn now…


	13. A mirror 'midst the Rubble

-1Chapter Thirteen

Note from Author: Harry's feeling a bit sad.

Harry's POV

I watch the scene around me as if detached from my own body. Since Dumbledore's death, it's been like there's no one to help. No one to guide. No one to look up to, and no one to grieve with. I've had quite a few days of this on going torment, where suddenly the whole grief and pain I've suffered wash over me. Everyone in my life dead. Everyone whom I care for, or very nearly. Who deserves this? And why me? I know people have lost relations and family through Voldemort, but surely they don't feel like me. Like their entire family they built from friends was about to crumble around them under the wrath of Lord Voldemort. No one feels so angry, so tormented, that they know they'll follow him till the day they die? Pursue him? Kill him? Die in the process? 'Cause I may only be seventeen, but I've got a lot more motivation to kill than Draco Malfoy last year. With Dumbledore. And the person I'm out to seek, they deserve it.

I didn't think, somehow, that Godric's Hollow would look like this. You'd think that someone would come and clear away the rubble, but it looks so remote I doubt any one ever comes here. A lot of the wood has begun to decompose with time. I wonder which was my bedroom? Which was the sitting room? Where's the landing, where Voldemort stepped over my dad's body?

I wish they were here. I wish somebody was here. Anybody. Geeze, where's Ginny or Hermione when you need them?

I look up, wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeve, and notice an owl coming towards me. There's a letter in it's talons; I could cry for joy! Hermione and Ron finally decided to write. I kneel in the rubble, looking the very image of sorrow, but there's a deep root happiness inside me. Thank Merlin I have friends. Friends who actually _write._

The owl lands next to me, and I hurriedly untie the letters. I unseal the yellowish parchment and read the letters, savouring every word. Then, prepared as I am, I take a quill from my jeans pocket and write a well-thought out reply to each.

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So. Godric's Hollow. It sounds like it's supposed to be a cosy place. A place to be warmed by a fire. But in reality, it's a pile of broken beams and bricks, laden with dust and surrounded by a clinging fog that seems to just dwell around the edges of the former building. There is nothing here. Well, at least it doesn't look like there is. The owl flew away ages ago, leaving me quite alone in this pile of rubbish. I pick through it, sometimes looking for life, but the only thing in sight is the rubble on the floor that comes up to my knees at its shallowest points. And then, quite by chance, and glint of something catches my eye.

A mirror.

Only a mirror, but I go over to it anyway. There's still the remains of some kind of frame outside it, worked in silver and fragile. It possesses a kind of beauty that comes only from fragility. Hm. Strange. I turn it over in my hands, look at it from every angle as if expecting some kind of clue on what to do next. There's no writing, no symbols. No other pieces scattered around. Just this one, on its own. A bit like me, really.

I look at it properly, so it reflects my face. So, it isn't like the mirror of the Erised. It doesn't show me what I want to see -- but perhaps that's because I'm not really sure what I want to see. What's the deepest desire of my heart? Seeing Sirius. Seeing Dumbledore. Seeing my parents. Ending this. Being normal. Completely and utterly normal. Getting revenge. Finding Horcruxes. God, they're all top of the list. How to put them in order of priority?

I put the mirror back down with a sigh, but then something in the glass catches my eye. It's as if it was positioned there for a reason, so someone would look through and see…

I crouch down and look closer into the mirror, to see something in the landscape behind me that I didn't quite catch before. A brass door handle, in the side of the only remaining wall. There is no door.

Maybe there _is_ a Horcrux here…

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Note from Author: Tee hee, Ill leave it there, and torture you. Mwahahah.


	14. We'll Meet you here

-----------------------

Chapter Fourteen

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Note from author, and yet another disclaimer: I don't own Harry! I don't own Ron! I don't own any of these people! Mwahahah! But I will, soon, rule the world. Ha. Ha.

Umm, if you think this is slow-paced, kill me in your next review. If you don't, glomp me!

Hermione's POV

_Hermione & Ron,_

_Right now, I'm at GH. I've just seen Lupin at Headquarters; I don't think he'll be too pleased to see me next time I visit due to the fact I gave him a whole lot of attitude and apparated in front of him without my test. But I'm sure I'll survive._

_Listen. You can come, and I'm not stopping you, but you'll have to arrange a date with me. And Hermione, I'm surprised at you - don't you want to finish your NEWTS? J And to Ron, please tell your mum I'm sorry about the whole legging it at your party thing. Well, Bill and Fleur's. How are they? Not too gross? Just say to your mum that I'm okay or something like that, otherwise she'll worry. _

_I'm going to explore round here for a bit now, and look for those things I told you about last year. If you're sure you want to come, I know I'm probably not going to be able to stop you. So, send me a place and date where you can get to easily (preferably outside the grounds) and I'll meet you there. I know it's no good saying it's 'too dangerous', but I'm going to say it anyway. If you get hurt, either one of you, it's your own fault. And don't worry, I'd tell your parents that, too! J _

_Anyway, for now,_

_Harry_

"Hm. He seems cheerful," I announce to Ron, who's in a pile of homework in the chair beside me. He looks up. It's been two days since… that whole commotion.

"Really?" Ron says, not looking up. Recently, he keeps going red whenever I state something casual. I'm not really sure what to make of it, either.

"Ron -- how many times? It was just a way of telling you I'm not completely immersed in studies. I do know a little of that kind of thing, and, well, you completely deserved what you got."

Ron looks up, that incredulous expression on his face. "And what was it that I got, exactly, Hermione?"

"A lesson, Ron," I say curtly. This is no time for his jokes! "A lesson well learnt, I hope."

From here, I can just about hear Ron mutter; "Didn't feel like a bloody lesson", but I decide to dismiss it. There are far more important things going on, anyway. The welfare of the wizarding community, for instance. And my NEWTS. Harry is completely right -- I don't want to miss them, but surely helping the course of justice is far more important than a few exam papers…?

We pause for a moment while I gather my thoughts on the matter. What to do… what to do? I guess there's no chance but to consult Ron.

"So, Ron…"

"Yuh-huh?"

"Are you going with Harry?"

Ron stares at me like I'm some kind of raving lunatic. "Well, yeah!" He says after a dramatic pause. "I'm not staying here all the time, listening to Filch tell me I'm making the corridors dirty just by standing in them! Someone like me needs a bit of excitement sometimes, Hermione."

I snort. Ron looks at me piercingly. I know exactly what he's thinking. He's probably referring to the fact that in his point of view, the most excited I get is when we have a revision lesson. Well, if I find revision a healthy exercise, that's up to me. But as a human being, I do find other aspects of life interesting, thank you very much.

"So, when do we go?" I say tentatively.

"Obvious really, isn't it, Hermione? Next Hogsmeade we can get outside the grounds, and then we can apparate. After Dumbledore… well, you know, the security's got a bit lax seeing as some of the charm he put around the castle went with him, so it shouldn't be too hard. Besides, Fred and George got away with it on _brooms…_"

"I see what you mean," I sigh. "Next Hogsmeade trip's next week on Saturday. I guess we'll be seeing Harry soon, then."

Immediately, I dismiss my pile of homework so I can write a reply.

_Dear Harry,_

_Thanks for the letter. Ronald and I would like to come, and we'll be able to get out of here  next Saturday, on our next visit to the village. We'll be outside the ShSh. Will you be able to apparate there, or should we meet you somewhere else, as Ron is now perfectly capable of Apparition without splinching himself. _

_Furthermore, I think it will be good to get some practical work done outside of school and in answer to your question about NEWTS, I'm sure I'll learn far more out there, doing things, than I will stuck here with a pile of homework by my side. Also, I'm sure Ron will carry your apologies to Mrs W, but don't you think that it'd be good to go there and say it yourself? I know you're not particularly keen on seeing members of the order, and I'd like to know a little more about the L incident, but until then, we await your reply and hope to see you soon!_

_Love, Hermione._

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It's funny how excited one can feel about something. I can't wait for next Saturday. I never thought I'd be keen to get out of Hogwarts, but it's like now Dumbledore's gone, the whole life and soul has gone. The fat lady may still be grumpy and a terrible singer and Nick may still float through you at the most inconvenient of times, but the whole spirit of the castle has diminished.

I'll be glad to get out there and do something about Voldemort. I'm seventeen now, so I can do magic outside of school, as can Harry and Ron, and let's face it - with the three of us out to get him, those Death Eaters don't stand a chance, do they?

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Note from Author: Aw! I can't wait to write the bit where Harry & Ron and Hermione finally meet each other again… the story is going to get so much better from there… )


	15. Love Letter

-1------------------------

Chapter 15

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Ron's POV

I wish Hermione would stop looking at me like she's angry or something. She doesn't seem like she's aware of doing it, but man, can her looks scorch! Ever since the… "incident" she's been like this, looking down her nose at me like I'm some kind of piece of dirt. Well, she's always done that, but anyhow…

It's funny. She got a note delivered at her table earlier that she didn't notice, and I picked it up before she saw. I kind of recognize the handwriting, but I'm not sure who's it is - and the person who I first thought it was, well, let's just say they were voted off the list extremely quickly.

I've got it in my pocket now, and now Hermione's left the common room, probably due to the fact I'm paying her no attention whatsoever, I fish it out of my pocket.

_Hermione_

_I do not think you made a wise choice in your partner. I think you would do far better with someone, shall we say, like me; someone who can help you to go far, like your talents so obviously tell you, you are capable of. So I'm asking you to reconsider your choice. You don't need a blood-traitor to make yourself feel like your living among the people you deserve to live with; you need, and deserve, much, much more. Because if you don't notice me soon, I'm not sure what I'd do. I'll take a path that's impossible for you to follow, and I'm not sure if I want that. So, reconsider, or… well, we shall see what I'll do as a result. I have never relied on anyone before, but I'm putting the course of my life into your hands. You're going to be the person who decides my fate, Hermione. Please make the right choice, and if you do, I will meet you on the seventh floor at midnight tomorrow, outside what I understand you know as "The Room of Requirement". I know you are a good person, as I may not be -- but I can change that. Only for you._

_Yours, if you wish it,_

_X_

Anyway, whoever wrote it has got it bad. I suppose I'll have to give this to Hermione -- not for her sake, but for the poor guy who wrote this. He sounds suicidal! Over Hermione. Hm. I'm not sure what I'd do if I was like him, but I'd kill myself if she said no. Of course, I don't know what this guy will do if she refuses - but he sounds pretty desperate.

Oh damn! What's the time? Quidditch practice is on. I really don't see why we have to start this early in the year. Still, if I'm going off to save the world with Harry (or just be a faithful mascot who stays out of all the trouble, which is fine by me), I don't really need to worry if I'm going to lose. Ironic really, 'cause when I'm not worried, I play fine. It's a strange world!

I grab my stuff from the chair and stalk from the common room. You'll never guess what, but _Ginny_ - yes, _Ginny_ - was made not only a prefect this year, but bloody Quidditch Captain. It's sickening, really. My little sister! Anyhow, she got made Quidditch captain after Harry sent his badge back, along with his brand new shiny Head Boy badge, back to McGonagall. If you ask me, he's crazy. If he'd kept them, when he'd come back he could have thrown his weight around a bit more.

Before leaving the common room, I open one of Hermione's abandoned books and slip the anonymous note in. If you ask me, she's got enough. She seems to have accumulated a load of followers -- which are all either seriously brain damaged, want to know if she knows where Harry is, or just want her to help them revise for their NEWTS.

Oh, joy. Out to the Quidditch Pitch, no notes for me, to endure a downpour of rain and a few bludgers being hit at me.

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Yes. Wet, cold, and a sore loser. Practice was CRAP with a capital C. Ginny, I'll give her this, is a good Quidditch Player - but when she's captaining us, she's too nice to the new members and she takes out all her frustration with them on me. Bit like Harry really. No -- just joking. Half our team are particularly bad, however. Little kids who turned up and were the best because their mates were ever smaller. And me? Keeping skills are just as crappy - but at least Ginny let me back on the team.

Geeze, this may sound crazy, but I can't wait until I can get out of Hogwarts and get out there with Harry, doing the STUFF. Killing the EVIL GUYS. Harry told the DA enough times that it wasn't like that, that there was nothing enjoyable in it - but it's gotta be better than doing NEWTS.

And who knows, if we actually do it, I might just out-shine my brothers, Order or no. No, this is going to be the best thing that happens to Ron Weasley.

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Note from author: Eep! You can guess who sent the letter, of course?…


	16. Or IS it?

-1Chapter Sixteen

Malfoy's POV

Is she going to come? I'm sitting here. In the dark. No hand of glory with me this year. I could never stand that wrinkled old relic anyway - seems far too medieval for someone as well off as me. Correction, rich. And well-spoken, well connected, and well paid. If I do things right…

Tonight's the night Granger comes here and learns what I've felt all along. All the time. Tonight's the night I avenge myself. Tonight… if she comes. I don't know what will happen. Will I back down? Will I 'chicken out'? I know I can't… it's all about my life. How I want it to turn out. Good, bad, non existent or… sometimes I wish I had listened to that crackpot fool Dumbledore just a little more last year. How his Phoenix gang could protect me. I doubt it, but it was a tempting offer.

I look at my watch. Solid silver inset with emeralds. I'm not sure I like it. It's way too suggestive of my link with Slytherin - not the guy, the house - and I don't belong there any more. My loyalties lie elsewhere. Besides, I always did like gold better. It has a higher selling price.

Three minutes till midnight. I don't think I can wait anymore. Tapping myself on my head, I cast a disillusionment charm on myself, just in case Filch comes along, and then flick my wand, muttering _'Legilmens!'_ into the close air.

Granger is in the common room, studying. Great. So she's not coming. I would withdraw there, but my thirst to know what she's doing is too much to bear. She looks at her homework, sighs exasperatedly, and then rifles through a book. Seemingly this holds no relevant information, and she throws it in anger. Well, I always did know she has a temper. I just thought she was the type of person who apologized to first years when her book nearly concusses them.

She opens a second book, and some pale blue parchment falls out. I can't sense smell, but I know instantly that it's perfumed. I smile. So she never received it. Then, I glance more closely, if that's possible. I don't know if it is - glancing at someone else's recollections. But someone's been at that note - undone the ribbon and crumpled the paper. I bet it was Weasley! Lanky blood-traitor git!

Even so, she reads the note without much interest at first, and then as she finishes and folds it up, placing it lightly in the pocket of her robes, there's a quizzical look on her face - as if she's finally found a problem she can't solve. She puts her fingers to her temples and when she looks up again, she got a strange smile on her face. Tapping her wand lightly against her forehead, she exits her chair and makes her way to the exit of the common room. I watch with interest. After all, there are many tasks at hand, and knowing the Gryffindor password would be a good way to get to Victim A. The lanky git.

'_Hedgehogs!'_

I always did think that Gryffindors were slightly strange. Well. Stark raving mad. Bonkers. Loonies. They all belong in the mad house.

But at least she's coming. At least I've got that. I put my wand away, feeling a certain pleasure at getting the girl I've liked for so long to go on a date with me. Of course, there's always that revenge I kept thinking about before, but…

And then there's knowing how to get to Weasley. Of course, I'll have to find the Gryffindor common room, but I've got that already. I know exactly what to do. World - watch out. Draco Malfoy is on a mission, and his stupid crackpot father hasn't got anything to do with it.

I don't know how long I wait there for, just that it seems to stretch out like hours.

Footsteps sound behind me.

I look round, forgetting about the Disillusionment charm that covers me, and actually smile as Granger nears. I haven't smiled in such a long time out of actually being pleased - I've sneered and I've faked smiles, but they haven't been genuine. It's scary. I've held hate for this person so long and I'm still not sure of my footing. I'm not the loving, kind type. I'm always out for what's good for me and yet here I am, some pathetic loser looking on a girl.

She looks around and relaxes against the wall beside me. I don't think she knows I'm there. I take my wand out of my pocket, despite the good feeling I receive from her that seems to radiate from her very being. She looks tired. Maybe she knows where Potter is.

Flicking my wand, I silently lay the charm on myself that will change my voice. I have learnt many things from my master over the past months - not that anyone controls Draco Malfoy.

'Hello?' I say, my voice layered thick with a hoarse… Scottish accent.

Granger jumps and her wand goes to her pocket. Typical! She's too headstrong and intelligent to talk before she thinks.

'There's no time for wand games. I, uh, I'm not… going to harm you…'

If only that were true.

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SP says: -gasp- The suspense! The horror! Well, I'm sorry it's taken so long. I've had mock SATs and an election… o no, not the old type of election. A Youth election. Hm. Wonderful -cough-. Joy to the world!


	17. Mystery man

-1Chapter Seventeen

Note from Author: I have no idea if this is how the real book will turn out, but I thought this was a really good idea. And as for some of the things that 'he' says -- this is a fanfic. My fanfic. So, I can write what I want, as long as its slightly relevant to the books. Again, all characters, yadda yadda yadda, are JK Rowling's. The plot, for now, is mine. After reading HP 6 I was sure that Aberforth would play a role in Book 7, and perhaps be quite a significant character. I know he was in book 6 with Mundungus (been doing my research), and so therefore, here's an idea how Book 7 might include him.

Harry's POV

The stars wheel. The worlds spins. I am heaved from my position amidst the rubble. My eyes dart from the mysterious brass handle set into the rock, and my mind slips into memory…

Where am I? Who are you?

I struggle. A hand clamps over my mouth, another restricts my sight. I try to breathe against the suffocating darkness of the cloth covering my face. The gentle hush above me only makes me struggle more. My hand darts to my pocket, grasping my wand. I pull it out, and sightlessly; obliviously, I think with all my might. Snape, I can do wordless jinxes. And you'll find that out, sooner or later…

_Petricificus Totalus!_

The person is obviously not expecting such an onslaught from a stunned and disorientated teenager, and they become rigid immediately, their grip around my mouth and eyes slackening. I struggle upwards, breathing raggedly, tearing at the cloth that covers my face, prevents me from seeing.

The moonlight illuminates the ground; the stars pinpricks in the velvet night. It's night already. How long was I unconscious for? It's strange how haunted the world is right now, and how it is able to produce such an exquisite scene as this. Sirius, can you see this? Mum? Dad?

_No, this is no time for wishes and fantasies…_

I look down at my rigid captor, and am shocked to see the straight and unmoving form of a younger Dumbledore. Who is this? No… it couldn't be…

He must see the shock on my face. It's something about that look, strangely piercing and wise, that reminds me of my previous Headmaster. It's that that makes me release him.

He stands up. It's as if nothing happened; he brushes his black coat, huffs slightly and mutters something about cufflinks being a nuisance. Then, without further words, I am granted his unfaltering, undivided attention; something that I am disconcerted about. I'm not all sure this is the man I thought it was anyway…

'Who --?'

'My name is Aberforth, and I must say that although my dear brother spoke most highly of you, he never mentioned you had a tendency to assault older members of the public, like myself…'

'But… I never saw you at the Order…'

'Well, be that as it may, Harry. I feel I was never welcome with your Phoenix gang, anyway. Oh no -- don't worry. I haven't gone off and joined the Death Eaters - greasy fellows, I always thought. I am still,' he glanced up at the sky, 'quite, how to put it? Dedicated, I suppose you could say. Just not _committed; _I think, if you look hard enough you'll find that there's quite some difference between those two words.' His unwavering gaze swept towards the moon in its full glory. He sighed.

'I'm afraid poor Remus is probably in for a terrible night.'

I look at him warily. Aberforth, Albus Dumbledore's brother. Now I look at him again, I realise I do know him. I've seen him before. In no way whatsoever does he resemble Dumbledore; apart from his eyes. His eyes reflect his heritage.

'You know Professor Lupin?'

'He's hardly a professor now.'

I can't think of a retort to that, so I pace. I look on him with a cold stare. 'Why'd you ambush me like that? Sneak up on me? Take me here and knock me out? Not the kind of conduct young people like me expect from the 'older community', such as yourself, either.' I say angrily.

Aberforth gives me a cold stare. 'I always did think you were trouble.' Then he ruins it slightly by looking back up and muttering. 'I always did look up to my brother. Helped him out, lots. Always at hand, living where I did. He always overlooked my little dabbles outside of the law, you know. Yes, I shall miss him. But, you know. It's my duty. I gave him a lot of grief, being so eager to step outside the lines all the time. And so now, well, now I've come to help you out, because I know that you were Albus' hope for conquering Voldemort.'

Well, I didn't ask for his autobiography.

Still, I lower my wand. 'That doesn't explain why you brought me here and knocked me unconscious and covered my face up with what looks like some kind of rag from a pub…'

Aberforth frowns down at me. 'I don't like your attitude,' he growls, 'anyway, I appear to be doing you a favour. _Professor Lupin _will have figured out where you went to by now, and I took you away just in time. As for why I took you here, I believe you wanted to meet your friends soon? Oh… don't look at me like that. Albus may have got the lion's share with the brains, but he left me a fair bit. I'm no amateur in invading people's minds… having a little shuffle around, finding all their secrets…'

The cheek!

'And it just do happens I'm local to Hogsmeade. I could give you shelter, Mr Potter. For only a small fee…'

I furrow my brow. I feel I was so close to obtaining a Horcrux. Surely, _surely_ there was one at my parents' house. And then again, I want to see Ron and Hermione so much. Can I really do this without them? Do I really want to do this without them?

…No.

I look at Aberforth, with his now outstretched, rather grubby palm held out towards me. I know what he's talking about, and he knows I won't be able to refuse. We shake hands.

Note from Author: Book 7 Rumour: Done some internet research! Wow! Maybe Aberforth will play a role in book 7? Can't wait:o Please R&R. Now to Hermione, and Draco…

Again, just in case, and 'cause I'm paranoid, everything except general storyline is c) JK Rowling!


	18. A Heavy Heart

-1Chapter 18 (I think…)

-----------------------

Remus' POV

Oh my god.

Harry, I never thought you'd come here.

If he knew I was here, he'd go nuts, I know. I've learnt that about him: he doesn't like people invading his privacy. I can see why -- after all, his life holds terrible truths that no one would desire to hold within.

James?

Are you up there?

Are you listening?

Did you watch your son, when he came here just moments ago? It must have been moments.

Did you even feel the slightest bit of regret that you never got to watch him grow up? Well, I don't know if you did. You might be watching me, too. But I'll never know. Because, James, I'm feeling that remorse for you, right now. Your son is pursuing a nightmare that he need not; he's running from his friends because he believes they'll be in danger if they're with him. He's hurting, too. Over Dumbledore, over you, over Sirius. I can't really imagine what that's like, due to the fact both my parents are still alive. And although you and Sirius have been torn away from me, and you were like family, it still can't be as bad as what Harry is feeling now. Everyone he loves is being torn away from him.

And I've got Tonks now, anyway.

Who would've dreamed it?

I walk through the rubble of Godric's Hollow, not quite knowing whether I'm going to cry or not. The sensation is there, I'm just not sure I want to confess all this so openly yet. So, the tears stay unshed, and yet my eyes still burn.

I never thought I'd come back here. I know that Harry isn't here: I know he was, and I'll keep my secrets -- but he certainly isn't any more. He may just have left, but there's the niggling feeling within me that says Harry wouldn't want to leave so quickly. He's a very sentimental person, once you get to know him. He holds value in people, and memories. So very like Lily.

You would be so proud of him -- both of you.

Footsteps sound behind me, and I turn round, only to find Molly hurrying up to me. Worry is plastered all over her face.

"Oh my dear -- I've been told! Where is he? I've been so worried!"

"Gone someplace."

That's all I can muster.

"But…"

"He was here, Molly. But he's gone. A merry hunt he's lead us on…"

Tears well inside her eyes and he hand covers her mouth. "You don't think…" She utters, and I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, knowing her thoughts have jumped instantly to Voldemort and his death eaters.

"No, I don't think."

That's the truth.

But I'm still worried.

Why is that?

Molly shakes her head, and goes red-faced. She gets embarrassed over the littlest of things; a few tears shed.

"I have to go write to Ron… maybe he knows something…"

I look up to the moon. It's nearly full. Tomorrow night is going to be hell -- especially with the absence of Snape's usual brew.

A hell I'm willing to pay, for Harry. Wherever the hell he is.

I can only say this now. I don't think any other things I can physically do will help you.

…Good luck.

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A/N: I apologize for the awful grimness of this whole story, but it will become exciting grimness, honest… lol. Maybe, you might even encounter a happy chapter now and then. I know -- shocking, huh?


	19. I Can Hear You

-1Chapter 19

**A/N: I'm really sorry to all those who are waiting for Ron and Harry and Hermione to meet up -- it will happen, probably in Ron's or Harry's next chapter, but I have to add in this extra one. It kind of links in with 'A Broken Memory's Remedy'… what will be chapter 2.**

? POV

-----------

_Can you hear me?_

_Are you watching?_

_Are you proud?_

Questions I'll never tire of hearing, I promise you, but questions I am asked all the time. ALL the time. Maybe not out loud, maybe not publicly; but in your head. And for god's sake, if only you could hear my answer.

…Yes.

…Yes.

… Yes; I'm prouder than anyone could ever be.

Remus, I always cared for you as a friend, and I'm over the moon as someone like me can be that finally, you've found love despite your wolfish tendencies. I am happy that Sirius finally made it out of Azkaban; and sad that now he has gone. And my flower, I can't find her. She's been sent to a place that I can't follow, that I've tried to go many more times. Maybe she made a choice in life that I missed; I don't know. But I'm here, destined to walk the lonely paths of death on my own, watching, and listening to the real world.

I see my son all the time. Yes, Remus. I still can't quite believe how he's kept going all this time. His parent's gone. His godfather gone. His headmaster… washed away with the wind. His aunt and uncle the tyrants they always were, and with the whole of Voldemort's little gang after him. His destiny must be even worse than mine. Be killed, or kill…

If only he knew how to the other Horcruxes. Voldemort was around in my time, of course - so it's only right that some of the Horcruxes cannot be found in Harry's. Sometimes, I want to shake him by the shoulders and tell him where to go; he saw the mirror. He saw the door handle. So why doesn't it click? Time has changed their positions. He needs to go _back_…

Please let Harry lead a happy life, for my happiness.

Please… please let him realise this. That's for my sanity.

**A/N: Guess who that is? Well, I'll leave you to ponder, though it is pretty obvious, and will be even more so when I write chapter 2 of thingy. So… onto Hermione, I guess.**


	20. It's YOU!

-1Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: All characters and place names, etc, are property of JK Rowling, not me. However, the plot is. So… don't steal it. **

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Hermione's POV

_I'm not going to harm you._

Could this be my mystery note-sender? I didn't receive so many today. I decided to leave off the cosmetics, and that seemed to discourage the audience slightly. But this person…

"Who… are you?"

Silence.

I take my wand out of my pocket, only to find it isn't there. I _always_ carry my wand, nearby. Not that it isn't nearby. It's hovering nearby my face…

"Give my wand back!" I say with an outstretched hand. "If you don't I'm leaving. Right now."

It's a feeble threat, but it seems to stop whoever is holding my wand. The wand lies flat on my palm, and instantly, I snatch it back, and aim it towards what must be the face of the person in front of me.

"Now, who the hell are you?"

"My name is…"

I wait, wand still hovering at the air in front of me.

"No…" Whispers a voice. "It's me who should be asking the questions."

I open my mouth, but I can't think of a retort. Who…?

"Do you know the position of Harry Potter?"

Oh my god. I can't be facing a death-eater, can I? My reply is shrill with panic. I'm not even past N.E.W.T level…

"So… this was just a ploy to get to Harry Potter?"

Silence.

"I don't know." That's the truth. I don't know now anyway. I know where he'll be soon, but now… he could be anywhere. That's the reason I've been worrying.

Silence.

"I don't know where he is!" I cry into the darkness.

"You're lying."

_I'm not… I'm not…_

"Legilmens!"

"Protego!"

Memories… so many of them.

_Lucius Malfoy throwing a boy down the stairs because he hadn't succeeded in the murder of someone… Pain, searing pain as Lord Voldemort attempted the Cruciatus Curse on a blond haired boy… Severus Snape, in some kind of grotty flat in London… _

_He was having his doubts. Dumbledore was before him, weakened, knowing how he had been about to kill him; and yet he still offered his help. It was tempting, even with Death Eaters surrounding him. And then, Snape, just as he began to lower his wand. Dumbledore pleaded, and still Snape's wand went up. The killing curse was uttered, green light flashed, and the old man's body flew from the tower…_

"NO!"

One voice is angry and panicked, now recognizable as Draco Malfoy's… one is tear-stricken. That's me. A tear runs down my face. I never thought it had happened like that… the way Harry had described it, I knew Dumbledore hadn't gone down fighting, but still… oh…

"Potter taught you that one, did he?"

Draco Malfoy snarls at me, the Disillusionment charm gone.

"Get away from me, Malfoy!" I back away, prepared to run for the Gryffindor Common Room.

"No way, muggle. You've seen too much…"

I run, and his footsteps sound behind me.

"_Avada -"_

I duck.

I turn round before he can shoot another curse at me, the tears still running fast. "_Stupefy!"_

I don't care if it's struck him. I'm too busy running for my life, tearing up to the Gryffindor Common Room, ducking through the portrait hole just as Seamus Finnigan comes out, looking perplexed.

I hope, hope with every fibre of my being that Malfoy hasn't used that trick on Harry. I hope he didn't see when we'd meet. I hope… I hope so many things. So many things that are all way too unlikely.


	21. DADA Teacher

-1**Chapter 21**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and place names, blah, blah… they're JK Rowling's. MY PLOT. -Growls- Keep away! Lol.**

**A/N: I know this isn't the meeting of Harry, Ron and Hermione, but that'll happen in Harry's next chapter -- promise.**

Ron's POV

Hermione told me everything.

Last night, she came in sobbing. So, automatically, I thought she might have failed an exam or something, but it wasn't that at all. She said she's found a note in her text book. (I made no comment here). She said she was curious. She said she went up there to see who it was; she said she encountered Malfoy, who tried to penetrate her mind. She said she repelled it, and she saw everything, the night Dumbledore died. She said it shouldn't have been like that. It should have been… different. But that was all she said.

She wouldn't even do her transfiguration homework.

That was last night. I still can't quite believe Malfoy tried to use the Avada Kedavra on her -- the (censored!)! She says that she can't quite believe Harry's been able to go around with -- quote -- _that_ in his head all this time, without going completely insane.

She's really worried, and so am I. Where is Harry? Maybe something's happened? And now there's the complication of Malfoy. He might know about Harry meeting with us, and that'll lead to him running off to get you-know-who on our backs.

I guess this is what happens when Voldemort comes back; everyone worries, everyone looks out for each other, which I guess is kind of cool. 'Unity in the Good' - I guess. Hey -- that was quite poetic.

But life has to go on…

I make my way up to Defence of The Dark Arts with Hermione. She looks kind of dishevelled, having just come from Ancient Runes. I don't know how she can cope with all that "blah blah - means… blah blah…". I would have gone completely nuts by now.

Well, this is going to be interesting. Our new DADA teacher is someone from the Ministry, which is interesting in itself. Even if it is Delores Umbridge, at least levitating nifflers into her office will keep me busy…

We enter the room and to my surprise, Kingsley is the teacher standing by the desk.

"Hello class," he says gravely. "My name is Professor Shacklebolt… please books out, and wands out."

He completely ignores Hermione and I. I know that if he treated us differently suspicions would rise, but you'd think he'd smile or something. Mind you, I guess he hasn't had a very good summer either.

"Today we'll be revising stunning charms, and offensive spells…"

Hermione's eyes widen. "Offensive?"

She isn't the only one who seems a bit dubious to this suggestion.

"Yes, Ms… Granger. The Ministry now feels that defensive spells will no longer be sufficient against You-Know-Who and his death-eaters. Indeed, these are grave times. Most of our lessons will be practical…"

"Gives a nice change to two years ago," I mutter to Hermione, which earns me a smug smile of agreement.

And so, the lesson commences, and by the end, Kingsley pulls Hermione and I aside.

"I've been informed that Harry showed up at Headquarters yesterday," Kingsley muttered. "He met with Remus, I'm told, but he apparated. We think he went to Godric's Hollow but by the time Lupin got there, he was gone. We think he might have been taken away…"

Oh my god!

No way!

"And if you know anything, please tell us."

I don't really know what to say, but again, super-Hermione pulls us out of the deep-end.

"We don't know. We've sent him letters, but he doesn't respond…"

"Well, I know your mother has sent you a letter, Ron. But if he does make contact, please, for his own safety, please contact us…"

"Will do…"

Why does it feel that we're not just running from You-Know-Who? No wonder Harry's running all over the place. It seems like the Order's out to get him, too.

**A/N: Sorry if there are grammatical errors in this… the word processor I have doesn't have grammar or spell check and sometimes I forget to put the end on a word because my keyboard's playing up… :D**


	22. Malfoy's Doubts

-1**Chapter 22**

**A/N: This might be a short chapter… sorry…**

**Disclaimer: Ditto to what was said last chapter! No, that's lazy. I don't own any of these characters, JK Rowling does… plot is mine…**

MALFOY'S POV

It's been a week since I met with the muggle. I can't believe that she saw all those things. Of course, I'm not sure what she saw… I was too busy viewing her memories. But still, to have that kind of reaction, it must have been something important.

I hate her.

Is that true?

I don't think I do. But last week, I tried to kill her. There's no mistaking that. And she got away. I don't know how to say this or feel this, but I'm glad she did.

There is something I did merit from my trip up to the Room of Requirement, though. While she got a lovely taste of my memories, I got a small taster of her thoughts. Minor things, you know, including where Harry Potter is going to be this Saturday…

It's the information that saved me from a serious thrashing.

The information that saved me from a thrashing, and got me into the Dark Lord's good books. Apparently, they're going to give Potter a real 'do… all the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord himself.

Who would've thought Potter was so popular?

X

I walk up to Crabbe and Goyle and whisper the fact to them: they turn around. Their eyes are fearful, disbelieving. The Dark Lord no longer scares me -- only one person scares me, and it shames me to say their name. I hate them - have hated them for an eternity… because someday, I will  prove to my father that I'm more powerful than him. I just need more time….

The night arrives too quickly. Funny how I think of it as 'too quickly' -- especially as it's Friday night. My mind is like a maze, and I can't get out of it. Potter - I don't like him. I hate him.

Keep telling yourself that, Draco…

I don't like him. But it's a grudge. Everyone has a rival.

I hate him. But I don't want him dead.

No -- I can't let myself think that. I won't let myself.

I struggle in my dreams. In all of them, Potter's there -- he's alive, and then he's dead. Just as quick as that. And for some reason, I don't want him to die. It's funny. 'Cause I hate him - there's no doubt about that. But it's like… killing Potter is just a repeat of what happened to Dumbledore. Dumbledore… he was in with his Order lot. So is Potter, I know.

Dumbledore offered safety. Friendship, maybe.

Potter introduces safety.

**X**

The sun rises all too soon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**A/N: Argh! Maybe there's some good in Draco…**


	23. Friend and Foe

-1**Chapter 23**

**A/N: Without the right type of music, this won't be as effective. So, go to Windows Media Player and stick Hero by Mariah Carey on. Then read it. Trust me! And if you don't like that, find a song that really MOTIVATES you, MAKES YOU THINK. Tells you: "Life is out there! There are wars to fight out there! And I'm going to GO OUT THERE AND DO MY BEST!" (Sorry, when I was writing this I was very MOTIVATED).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Hogwarts, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, Voldemort, Prof. McGonagall, Hagrid, Priori Incantatem, or anything like that, they're JK Rowling's, kay? Plot's mine, and only mine.**

**Harry's POV**

It's been a week, in the Hog's Head, and the suspense was becoming too much for me. And the smell; I can't say that I liked that, either.

But I'm here, and it can be only minutes till I meet with Ron and Hermione. To tell the truth -- I can't wait. Without them, the whole chase is just grief. With them, it becomes adventure. Wearying adventure, but still, it holds an element of fun…

I turn towards the shrieking shack, and it's as if they were waiting till my back is turned.

"Harry!"

That's Hermione.

She throws herself at me happily, so I'm knocked to the floor. Next it's Ron's annual punch in the head. Laughing, actually laughing properly for the first time in a month, I sit up.

"Er, it's good to see you, too."

And such a change from other greetings. Ron and Hermione have a strange way of making me feel appreciated; something I value very highly in them.

"We were so worried!" Squeals Hermione.

"You and the rest of the world," I sigh. It's nice to know there's so many people trying to look out for me; but infuriating at the same time. My privacy… it's my own. I don't need a thousand eyes following me to feel safe. Just… well, just Ron and Hermione. I look up to the castle. "Is… er, is Ginny alright?"

"You bet; she was made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain." Ron speaks for the first time. He sounds disbelieving; that makes me laugh.

"Wow!"

"I know!" He grumbles. "She takes everything out on me." He glowers.

Meanwhile, Hermione's looking suspiciously at me. "You haven't found anything yet and not told us, have you?"

"Er, well, I thought I did. But… I'm going back to it. You see…"

The story is told and Ron's gape is just the same as ever. I laugh again.

"Dumbledore's _brother_?"

Hermione has that cool, calculating expression on that she outs on every time I tell them a revelation. "He'll be a helpful ally."

A girl of many words, just not when you need them.

Before I can respond, footsteps sound behind us. Hermione squeals again and tries to hide behind Ron, who groans.

"What? What is it?" I ask, perplexed.

"Hermione's fan club, I'm willing to bet," says Ron through gritted teeth. Again, I'm cut off before I can reply. Since when did Hermione have a fan club…?

Before I know it, I'm looking up at the sky at the huge Dark Mark rearing over our heads. I know what lurks behind me -- I knew we'd meet again… just not this soon.

"Hello, Harry."

Voldemort himself.

I guess I should be grateful that he holds me in such value that he'd come kill me personally.

There he is: white skin stretched against his face, red eyes gleaming. Surrounded by at least twenty Death Eaters… and one, one I know. A surge of anger lets me see Draco Malfoy, recognizable even with the death eater's skeletal mask hiding his face.

"Ron, Hermione, here's your chance to run…"

"No way…" Ron's voice is fearful.

"We've come to stay, Harry…" Hermione keeps a strong resolve.

Voldemort laughs mockingly.

"Always the hero, Harry. Always the hero. But, I fear, this time you are no more than a bump in my path. You are a school boy, hardly a match for twenty death eaters and the dark lord himself."

"Actually," I say unfalteringly, "I count nineteen Death Eaters, a minor-" my eyes fly to an infuriated Draco Malfoy, "and a dead man," I say through gritted teeth. My eyes rest on Voldemort, face contorted with what's supposed to be a mocking smile. I know Hermione's looking at me like I'm the stupidest person alive; but doesn't she realise? Sheer cheek and luck are the only weapons you possess against a wizard like Voldemort.

"Sadly, the only dead man here stands before me…"

We pull our wands out together.

"Let's make this quick, shall we, Harry?"

And behind them, I can see other people coming down to watch. The teachers from Hogwarts. Hagrid: Professor McGonagall.

They're going to die needlessly.

I wish there's some way I can save them, but I can't.

_I can't…_

And with that, a familiar… accident takes place.

'_Avada Kedavra!'_

'_Expelliarmus!'_

It's Priori Incantatem.

But it's not like it was last time: Voldemort seems to be ready for this. We're raised above the ground again. There's no phoenix song, nothing except the tendrils of golden light that secure the two wands in place: the beads, sliding the length of the beam.

"It's an old trick, Harry!"

There's no room to listen to the taunts. No room to think. Just enough time to will, will those beads down the line. But it's not working: Voldemort is ready, and he's got the will of ten men. There's nothing to do, but it might win me some time. The ground shakes; it's like the whole world is ready to give in, just to this moment. Ready to give up on me. Give in to Voldemort. I sever the connection.

I hit the floor and roll, and a curse just misses my shoulder. The blood pounds in my ears; my hearts thumping against my rib cage and in the extreme exhilaration, I fire a stunning curse at one of the Death Eaters. I barely have the time to see him immobilised, hitting the floor. I fire off curse after curse; ducking, dodging towards Ron and Hermione, all too aware of my back open to the Death Eater's curses.

I look back towards the Death Eaters. Some of my curses hit home: at least five Death Eaters lie still in the mud, eyes unblinking, frozen with various hexes. The ground shakes again, and there's no time to give Hagrid a wave good bye. There's too much to do; there's no time to save them. That's such a horrible thought, but it's true. Save them, forsake the world. Save the world, there's a chance I save them.

The curses come down like rain, and the footsteps sound, ever-close.

It's too late before I realise there's one heading towards my back. It hits square, and I'm blown into the cold air, all the breath taken out of me. I land on the ground on my back, and without thinking, yell:

"_Crucio!"_

It hits the person I've been wishing dead for a year. Bellatrix Lestrange curls up in agony, twitching; convulsing. I'm tempted to stay there and spectate but there's no time for revenge games. I reach Ron and Hermione and grab Hermione's hand. Ron grabs her hand and without thinking of the three D's, whatever the hell they stood for anyway, I disapparate from Hogsmeade for what will probably be a very long time.

But I will come back.

Even if it killed him, he'd come back and kill Voldemort. Severus Snape, he was a dead man, too. And Draco Malfoy… he was third in line, but he'd get what was coming, too.

**A/N: I'm sorry if that's not as good as I think it is -- I loved writing it. And there'll be PLENTY more, very, very soon. Just make sure you had the music. **


	24. Minerva's View

-1**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**Minerva's POV**

The Dark Mark in the sky, above the Shrieking Shack.

It's the worst beginning of a school year in history, and I run, no regard for what people think, towards the Shrieking Shack; I'm joined by Hagrid. No words are exchanged -- there's hardly time. My heart dreads what I'll see; images flash through my head like water upon sand. Students, spread-eagled.

The sight before me makes me stop in my tracks.

It's enough to make one nauseous: three students, surrounded completely by Death Eaters and in the middle… there can be no mistaking the head of He Who Must Not Be Named. The students are outnumbered; there can't be any victory for them. There's only three…

Words catch the air but I find I can't move. Maybe I've been hit with a curse. Maybe I'm just petrified as I recognise the boy who stands up to Voldemort, looking quite the reckless hero.

My heart clenches painfully but still, I can't move, as the earth-shattering cry of You-Know-Who rips through the air, followed by the urgent yell of Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The two beams hit each other just as I manage a feeble step forward -- even though I know it's too late to help Harry. They join, intertwine into a huge golden line that scores through the country like some kind of pathway to the heavens; shuddering, trembling, a cobweb stains the landscape and Harry and Voldemort are forced into the air. It's hard not to admire the bravery of Mr Potter; but he's fighting a losing battle.

I can't say how proud I am to have known this boy as I watch the connection severed and watch him run towards his companions -- which, inevitably are Mrs Granger and Ron Weasley. I should have predicted they'd go to join the boy.

Words surpass me when it comes to mentioning those three's commitment to each other. And as I see them disapparate, not an ounce of reproval about Mr Potter's apparating without a license touches me. Voldemort wheels round, furiously, and disapparates after the trio: not that he'll know where they are. It's childish, but I feel a sense of loss. I would have been proud to go down fighting for Hogwarts -- or at least, for those students.

So, I'll say these words. I don't think I can do much physically to help them.

…Good luck.

**A/N: Just a preview of Minerva's feelings towards the trio.**


	25. Happy Times

-1**Hermione's POV**

I've gotten used to the sensation of apparation by now, yet this time was like the first all over again. I roll onto my side, and find I'm lying amidst the rubble. I look up to find Harry grimacing and stretching his wrist. Ron's sprawled on the floor, probably faking death or I don't know what…

"Harry," I pant. "That was really… brave."

Harry looks up briefly. "It was necessary," is all he says.

"Are you okay?" I'm aiming the question at him.

"I'll pull through," groans Ron.

I throw him a scorching look. "I was talking to Harry." I turn to Harry. "I saw that curse hit."

"Joy," says Harry under his breath. "I'm fine."

I'm a little in awe that he can be like that after encountering Lord Voldemort. I'd be in tears. Well, maybe. Or else in need of some therapy from Madam Pomfrey. And that stuff he said! Reckless, stupid, but extremely brave.

"That what it was like all those other times?" Ron mutters.

"Uh… no, not really." Says Harry. I get the faint impression he doesn't really feel like talking about it. I have a sudden yet strong urge to kick Ron; mind you, when it comes to Ron, there is no such other urge. Pig.

Harry looks up at the surroundings, raising his eyebrows slightly. "I didn't want to come here," he says, puzzled.

"It was probably a lack of _destination,_" I say.

Both Ron and Harry shoot me positively incredulous looks. Well, it's true.

I look around. Where are we? The air is tangy and over in the distance, a village can be seen on the horizon; below us, thunderous waves thrash about in unwanted turmoil. And just in front of us, there's at least a fifty foot drop.

"So… where are we?" I say. How come Harry knows a place like this? Maybe he's been here on holiday?

Harry looks distant for a moment. "This is where we found the fake Horcrux, or just above it. Down there." He points to the drop. Ron's mouth hangs open, and just for a bit of fun, I go over to him and slap him lightly across the jaw. I simply can't _stand_ his gaping. It infuriates me.

"So, think we'll find anything here?" I say.

"Nope." Says Harry. "But, a week ago, I went to Godric's Hollow. Y'know, my parent's old house… and I found some stuff there that doesn't really look like it could be a Horcrux, more like… clues."

I can't help raising an eyebrow. Lord Voldemort, leave clues?

"Hey, don't look like that!" Says Harry, smiling. He looks genuinely please to receive a patronizing stare! Wow, he must have been pretty lonely. "There were ways to get the Horcrux here, it was like… a load of trials. And clues are the only thing we have now, because the only person who had any clue about where the hell Voldemort's Horcruxes are" (Ron shivers) "died at the end of last term. So, if you came here to doubt, I can always take you back."

I know he's joking, but there's a hint of truth there.

"Not in a million years." Says Ron. "Besides, I'm more of a… by-stander. She can do the thinking, and you can do the work, and I'll refine my cheerleader dance." He points to Harry and I in turn.

Noting Ron's abysmal amount of effort in class, I smile smugly. "You'll have to learn to improvise, then."

He shoots me a glare.

"So," says Harry. "You two don't know where Godric's Hollow is, so I'll guess you want to side-apparate?"

"Sure," I say eagerly.

Ron looks slightly crestfallen.

"Look, I know you want to get out there and do this stuff, Harry, but we haven't seen you in ages, and you've got a life to lead, too, you know?" Ron says pleadingly. "So, can't we go someplace and do normal teenager stuff for like, a couple of days? We haven't seen you in ages."

Wow, words of wisdom. Only, I never expected them from Ron…

Harry pauses for a second, and then, it seems, the temptation overwhelms him.

"Sure," he says. "So, pick a place, any place, and we'll go there."

One worry free week.

Harry deserves it.

We deserve it.

**A/N: To end on a happy note, because lets face it, the world isn't all as bad as I made it out to be (:**


	26. Ron and Hermione

-1**Ron's POV**

It's funny how people get over these things so quickly; a few moments ago, I was petrified with fright and although it seems pathetic admitting it, I was … a little in awe of Harry. Of course, I haven't told him the good news. Well, I don't know if he'll take it as 'good'; he'll probably be pretty reluctant at first, but…

Pick a place, any place.

Well, Hermione and I are prepared for that one.

"Let's go that town near our house…" I say. "I know it's a bit near the Order, but they don't know. We could go to that place that's a bit like the Three Broomsticks…"

Harry's a little hesitant. Ah well. I'll drag him if I have to…

"Look, we're going, Harry. So… let's go."

I apparate without a second glance at the eerie beach. I can't help feeling slightly scared of that place. I mean, Dumbledore nearly _died_ there…

XXXX

I walk through the door of the Inn, and Ginny bursts out.

"Hey, Ron, I got your message before the whole You-Know-Who business," says Ginny. "So, where's Harry."

How can she have that calm and collected attitude? You-Know-Who just attacked the school. I wouldn't be surprised if there were casualties or maybe even deaths…

"He's apparating, hopefully. Otherwise, Hermione will drag him."

"Well, he'd better come here. I've got out of my first NEWT year for him -"

Harry apparates, and Ginny flings herself bodily onto him.

"Whoa!" He cries. "Ginny?" He sounds a bit disbelieving. Poor guy. I have to say, sometimes I wish he could lighten up…

"You bet, Harry Potter. We may have split up because of this whole Dumbledore thing last year, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be a part of sending him down. He nearly killed dad."

The expression on Harry's face is almost comical. He looks to me accusingly. "Did you start this, Ron?"

"What me? No! Sweet, innocent me? Now why would I do a thing like that? Sweet, angelic little me?"

Okay, so it doesn't sound particularly convincing. I usher them both into the Inn; Hermione appears beside us with a _pop_, and we enter the bar.

I don't think the barman will recognise us; dad, maybe, but not us. And besides, so many pupils have been dropping out of school because of the tragedy with Dumbledore, he looks at us with a welcoming eye. So, maybe he thinks we should be at school; but I reckon he's also noticed just how full my pockets are with the extra gold I accumulated from helping Fred and George over the holidays.

"Four butterbeers, please…"

XXX

The time passes easily in the town. I don't know where the heck it is, but Harry and Ginny still seem to be just as in to each other as when they were an item. It's strange for me, but I don't think I really mind. She may be my sister, but he is my best mate. And besides, that leaves me to walk with Hermione.

Now why would I be happy about that?

"So," I say awkwardly.

"Yes, Ronald?" Says Hermione, seemingly taking pleasure in intimidating me.

"That was some showdown, huh? You reckon it's like that every time? 'Cause if it is, I'm not really sure I'm…"

"What?"

"Y'know…"

"No, I don't know, so tell me."

"…Well, I'm not sure if I'm brave enough."

Hermione sighs incredulously. "Ron, of course you are. Remember in our first year? You got your self knocked out so Harry could go ahead…"

"But I _liked_ Wizard's Chess…"

"…And personally, I think that shows huge quantities of courage. You just need to believe in yourself. Loads of other people believe in you."

"Er, name one, and I'll be happy."

"Er, well," Hermione hooks one of her curls around her ears and avoids my gaze. Finally; I've got one up on her.

"Well, there's, um, there's… there's me…"

Wow.

"Thanks," I say. It sounds strange even in my ears. What's wrong with me? I look in front of me to Harry and Ginny who are talking animatedly. "You know, I wouldn't have done it if you'd had been anyone else."

Oh, come on, Ron. That might have been true, but you're using it to your advantage.

Well, who wouldn't?

Shut up, thoughts. I don't need you right now.

"My turn to say thanks, then," says Hermione unblushingly. "Hey, Ron -"

Too late, I tell my thoughts as I lean forward to kiss her.

_**A/N: hee! Sorry it took so long for me to update, but there you have it. And I will be updating VERY soon.**_


	27. Malfoy Has Feelings Too

-1**Malfoy's POV**

"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

_Stop it… I can't take it any more…_

The pain stops. The imaginary knives stop digging into my flesh. Tears course down my face, but no one sees them because of the skeletal mask that covers my face. A mask I never really wanted to wear. I look up at him, into his burning red eyes, and see my own thoughts reflected in them. He can sift through every memory I've ever had, feel every emotion. I tremble with the pain that sears through my body, begging with my mind. I've never felt worse. I've never wanted to escape more…

"There is no escape from Lord Voldemort, Draco…"

"Master," I breath against the cold floor. "Master, forgive me…"

I want more than anything to sever my gaze with him, but Voldemort will never let that happen. Only he looks away. If I stop staring, he will see it as unacceptable weakness. I nearly convulse with the thought that if I let go of the gaze, he might set the Cruciatus Curse on me again.

"You supplied me with false information, Draco," Voldemort's gaze lingers on; impenetrable, perpetual. "For this, there can be no forgiveness."

"Master…" I plead. I never knew that Potter would escape like that. I never knew they would be that prepared. They must've known that I knew to escape so easily…

"You are lucky, Draco. You know this."

"Yes, Master…" There is no other type of answer to Lord Voldemort.

"I would not have wanted to kill Potter there, anyhow. A killing on Hogwarts ground for such a rival seems most inappropriate. A killing that would have meant some of the most choicest recruits for my own band of death eaters would have died defending him."

He really thinks that much of Potter? I look up at my master, truly believing with all of my heart that I _am_ lucky. He seems to be sparing me. I couldn't feel more happy in his presence…

"Yes, Master…"

"However," Voldemort says, finally severing the connection between our eyes, "I would have taken this opportunity to kill Potter, but yet again he escaped from my grip. Draco, you have been taught a valuable lesson, today…"

"I have, Master…" I respond without even questioning him what this 'valuable lesson' is. Finally, I can shut my eyes to the world, just for a few seconds.

"Don't you want to know what the lesson is, Draco?"

_No._

"Yes, Master…"

"Very well," says Lord Voldemort. "The lesson is to never be careless or foolish enough to let your thoughts go to other people, or try tricks that are above your ability. Ignorance is a curse, Draco, but over-confidence… that is dangerous."

"Yes, Master. Forgive me…"

"You see, if you let these things happen, failure is inevitable. And so is punishment."

"Yes -"

"_Crucio!"_

_No… stop it… I can't take much more! ARGHHHHHH! Pain… didn't… do anything wrong… don't… deserve…_

"Ah, well, I had best stop if you don't deserve it." I raise my head, knowing more pain may soon be coming my way. Best to face it properly, without begging or whining. But I have forever been a whiner, like it or not, and Voldemort despises me. I know it… I can feel it…

"But be well aware, Draco. This time I spare you, next time a mutinous thought comes to mind, I will not be so sparing…"

"Yes, Master! Thank you!"

**XXXXXXXXXX**

I lie awake, eyes looking up to the darkened bunk on top of my own bed. I don't know where I am, or why I'm here. After Voldemort… dealt with me, the Death Eater's split up. We're to find Potter, wherever he is. Story of my life. He's like a needle in a haystack, and he can apparate now. So, their stupid Phoenix lot has lost Dumbledore; big deal. Potter forever has been, and always will be, the boss of that gang, whether they like it or not. So, maybe he's not a senior; but he's got them all eating out of his hand.

I can't believe they got away with it. And here I am, paying for it because they escaped and Voldemort wasn't quick enough to catch them. He gets slower with his old age; just like Dumbledore did. And look what happened to him - killed by the Potions Master. So I guess there's no reason why Potter can't kill Voldemort. And it's strange, because if he does ever defeat Voldemort, I won't feel in the slightest bit sad…

_Keep your mind closed, keep your mind closed… if Voldemort can't sense anything from you, maybe he'll think you're just sleeping._

Lucky Potter. The Dark Lord daren't use Legilmency on _him_ anymore, because he knows how those type of plans always backfire. Potter always finds out stuff. If only I could use it… but I can't. I don't know how, but they've blocked their minds. I don't know what they're doing.

I can imagine, though.

Maybe Potter's fallen off a cliff, and Weasley and Granger are trying to help him up. Maybe a bolt of lightning just lanced down from the sky and caused him to fall off the cliff, with Weasley with him. Maybe Granger's mourning, wishing they were both back with her. Maybe she's finally realised she can get so much more with me…

Grieving, wishing they are there.

Is that what real friendship is like?

I can only speculate. I don't know what it's like to have real friends, that stand up to you and laugh at your jokes without feeling that they need to because they're intimidated. I've always preferred being superior, but now I look at it, it got me nowhere. Potter, Weasley, and Granger; those are examples of real friends.

I've never envied Potter more.

_**A/N: There you go. Malfoy has feelings too… R and R!**_


	28. Heck, What Do I Do?

-1**Molly's POV**

Hogwarts! Attacked!

I'm all over with worry; it seems to be tearing me to shreds inside. I tap my fingers against the wood of the table on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, waiting for the meeting. Waiting on tenterhooks. Ron, Ginny, Hermione… are they okay? Are they alright? Minerva is attending the meeting, but so far she has told no one of what happened at Hogwarts. I've never been so nervous, not since the time Arthur and I thought Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, or that time Harry faced Voldemort alone…

The door opens and a procession of people enter. Minerva, Kingsley, Arthur, Lupin, Mundungus and anyone we can spare. We're getting low on recruits, and Moody's too busy to attend, hunting for the Death Eaters. I can't help it. I rise out of my chair, immediately trying to question Arthur.

"Arthur, what's happened? Are they okay? Ron and Ginny; are they okay?"

"Hush, dear. I don't know. Minerva's about to update us all."

I take my seat again, knowing it's not my place to interrogate everyone. This time, my hands go beneath the table, gripping my shawl till my knuckles turn white. People take their seats; only Minerva stands. Why is she keeping the silence? What could have possibly happened? Surely she'd tell us if anyone had died…

"As I'm sure you all heard, Hogwarts was attacked by You-Know-Who himself, today. Three students were killed, and Professor Flitwick has been severely injured, but it seems the Death Eaters left without interest." Minerva surveyed me in particular. "Of the three students killed, Molly, none of them were one of yours."

I couldn't help giving an audible sigh - even though I knew that had any of them been harmed, I would have been informed immediately.

"However, the news is not much better. This concerns Arthur and Molly in particular. I witnessed it myself; both Ron and Hermione, it seems, have been in contact with Harry. Today, when the Death Eater's attacked, both were present when Voldemort began a duel with Harry. Somehow, I can't even imagine how, he managed to escape before they were all killed, and they apparated somewhere."

"_Ron?_" I gasp. How could he hide something like that from me? Time and time again I've asked him if he was in contact with Harry, and time and time again he's lied. And now he's out there, with Harry and Hermione, alone. Who knows what the dangers out there may be? I could… I could… kill him! Or try and protect him. That's the difficulties with my children. I never know what to do, and as a result, I normally end up giving them the cold shoulder.

"Calm down, Molly!" Says Minerva, and I know immediately she hasn't told us everything yet. "Ginny hasn't been at Hogwarts all day… and well, we think she left around the same time Hermione, Harry and Ron did… seeing as when they were in Hogsmeade, the apparation barrier would have been weak enough to break. I'm sad to say it… but without Dumbledore's protection, Hogwarts is falling apart."

So, great. That's supposed to distract me from the fact that Ginny _and_ Harry _and _Ron_ and_ Hermione are out there, thinking they can take the world on their shoulders.

"Why would _Ginny_ want to go with them?" Says Arthur, voicing my thoughts exactly. He does worry. Almost as much as me, the poor soul.

Minerva looks up, surprised. "Well, I thought she would have told you," she says, a mild note of shock in her voice. "Her and Harry began…" she sniffs at the word, "… 'going out' together."

"What?" I say incredulously; but they never said! If I'd _known_…

It's wonderful, my daughter dating Harry Potter. But then again, it's awful, too. Because all my children are het up in this mess, somehow or another, and there's not one thing I can do to stop it.

Heck, what do I do?

_**A/N: Just a short one this time, but I thought you ought to know how Molly felt. Harry's next, promise.**_


	29. Realisation

-1**Don'tLetMeGetMe: Eek! Ah, good you. Thanks for all your reviews. GO CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM! To answer to your point about Harry/Ginny and Molly not knowing, I know it was never said in the books, but I thought, as this is a fan fic, I'd like to have Molly being shocked and pleased at it. It was that wish that made me write it like that!**

**Something of nothing: Nah, still doesn't ring a bell … XP**

**Ruby-Wonder: Thanks for all your reviews! Ah, good, sweet, faithful reviewers!**

**LadyBlueWolf: Yup, Molly that reserved. Thanks for your reviews. I kind of kept Molly subdued in this chapter, mainly because it wasn't a main part of the story and I didn't want it becoming a hug argument which would take chapters to resolve…**

**Hedwig136: Always so nice!**

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Oh my gosh… we hit fifty five! It's a start people, it's a start!**

**Harry's POV**

It's nearly night now, but I don't really have any urge to leave the small Inn somewhere in nowhere; the fight's all gone out of me. Not in a bad way; in a way that's kind of left it just out of reach, ready to leap at the next opportunity. Ron and Hermione are sitting one side of the table, Ginny and I at the other. Bottles and drinking glasses clutter the table. I look up again at Ron and Hermione, and can't help suspicion rising.

"Hey, you two… what's the matter?"

Hermione looks up curiously. "What? Does Ron look peaky or something?" A new realisation dawns on her face. "Oh no! It isn't me, is it? I can't come down with a bug now!"

"No, it's not actually that…"

"What is it then?"

"You and Ron… you're talking together."

"And?"

Ginny gets up and enters the conversation.

"Yeah… yeah, that is strange…"

Hermione looks furious now.

"WHAT!"

I look at her incredulously. "You and Ron are talking! Not arguing!"

Hermione smiles smugly. "No, you're right," she says, bearing all her teeth in that spookily candid grin. "We've decided to promote a sense of unity between each other."

Ron coughs.

"…After all, we do all need to stick together…"

"Hermione, fine. We get the point."

That shuts her up.

----------------------------------

I close my eyes, and as soon as my head touches the pillow I fall asleep. It's been a tiring day.

Reluctantly, willingly, I don't know which, I succumb to my dreams…

_I'm looking in suspiciously at a smiling Ron talking to a grinning Hermione. Ginny comes to stand next to me._

"_Oh come on, Harry… it's so obvious what's happened…"_

"_What?" I should know this, but I don't._

"_Ron and Hermione are an item!"_

"_What!" Ron? Hermione? An item? Even in the dream the shock and realisation is there._

"_Yes, and seeing as this is such a happy time, don't you think it's time you asked me out again?"_

_I look up in bewilderment. "But Ginny, we talked about this… I can't ask you out; I explained it last year."_

_Ginny looks at me like I'm the stupidest person alive. "Sure, you've stopped going out with me; but either way, you've brought me along with you, and you know there's no way I'm turning back. So either way, if anything happens, you'll lose me; it'll just depend whether you lose me as a friend who you always like-liked, or your girlfriend. It's your choice, Harry…"_

_I don't know… my head is bursting with thoughts and notions… what if… what if…_

"_I don't know…"_

_And when I look up, ready to exchange a sorrowful glance with her, Luna is standing next to me._

"_Hi, Harry!"_

"_Hi, Luna…"_

_How did…? I could have sworn I was just talking to someone else. But no matter; it's probably just my mind playing tricks on me._

"_So, Harry. Want a chocolate frog?" Luna brandishes a box of the things at me eagerly._

"_Er, no thanks, Luna…" I don't feel that hungry._

"_They look like they're enjoying themselves," says Luna, pointing to a now very close Ron and Hermione._

"_Yeah; they do," I say. For some reason, I can't really think of a response to that. After all, what more is there to say? Fine. They're enjoying themselves._

"_Do you want a chocolate frog, Harry?"_

_I look down at Luna. What is she playing at? She already asked me that._

"_Er… no, thanks…"_

_Luna's expression turns angry. "Now, Harry. I'm going to ask you again. Do you want a chocolate frog?"_

"_For the last time, Luna, no!"_

_Luna turns her head upwards and screams it. "DO YOU WANT A CHOCOLATE FROG?"_

_I open my mouth to answer, but she's not there anymore._

_Just the darkness._

_Am I dreaming?_

_Is this real?_

_No._

_Another thinner figure rises to join me. He's about my height, with silver eyes that burn. He looks fatigued, his features drawn, eyes slightly more hollow than last I saw him. And his hair… that's the most recognisable feature. Platinum blond, dishevelled but still one of the traits I recognise most._

"_You." My eyes burn into him; I can't believe I could hate someone this much. Snape, maybe. Voldemort, definitely. But…_

"_What are you doing here, Malfoy? Cornering me so you can go summon master? Well, that's not going to happen. Because I'm ready for whatever you throw at me."_

"_You're asleep, Harry; you're defenceless," says Malfoy. It's nothing particular about what he says that scares me, it's just that he says my first name. He's never called me Harry before; and he sounds exhausted. I feel no remorse for him. Why should I? But him saying my name… that throws me off balance._

"_This is more than a dream," I say to Malfoy, pulling my wand from robes, like school robes, that I've only just dreamed up. _

"_You're right," says Malfoy, eyes sparkling. I don't know what they're sparkling with, but it doesn't seem to be malice. And then I realise. That faint shimmer is… tears._

"_What the hell did they do to you?"_

"_I gave him the wrong information. You weren't supposed to live."_

"_And what am I supposed to say, Malfoy? Sorry, 'cause I just happened to feel a bit of value for my life and ran off instead of letting dear old Voldemort kill me? Sorry because you were stupid enough to join the Death Eaters? Oh yeah… like that is ever going to happen…"_

"_Well maybe that would never have happened…" Says a snarling Malfoy to me; but his voice trails off at the end._

"_Happened if what? And why are you here anyway?"_

"_No matter," says Malfoy, courage restored. "And I'm here… I'm here, I guess, by choice."_

_How do I answer that? Why would he want to come here to see me? To kill me? But wouldn't he have done that already? Or would he have left it to his new master? Too many questions, and none of them answered. I don't know what to do, don't know what to say. _

"_So," I say grudgingly. "You don't look like you're a threat. So, why are you here? And what happened? Don't not answer; I've got my wand and you haven't. And even if it is a dream, it's my dream - and after all the stuff you've done to me, I won't hesitate to dream up something bad for you."_

_Malfoy pales._

"_I've come… I've come to join your Order lot…"_

_He chokes on the words._

_Malfoy - join the Order? Is he joking? I'm not like Dumbledore. I looked up to him while he was around, and I still do now, but I'm not as trusting as him. Not as gullible. I would never have trusted Snape; never. Nothing he could have shown to me or said to me would have changed that. And now it's the same scenario with Malfoy; as far as I can see, he's just another Snape. Another faithful follower who would turn when their allies were weakest. No way. Him even thinking of asking it fires me up with some kind of anger…_

"_Are you KIDDING, Malfoy? You can't… I'd never…" My wand points straight at him. How dare he?_

_And now he looks really choked up. I couldn't care less. "Please, Potter. I'll… I'm desperate. I… don't want this anymore. When Dumbledore died last year, I couldn't have cared less; but he gave me an offer. He said it would be safe with your lot. I want… I'll do anything…" His voice drops to a whisper._

"_Oh, so we can let you in with the Order so you can report back to dear Voldemort and tell him our every move? Sure! Come on in! We don't mind him knowing everything; we really couldn't care less if he finds everything about us out and uses it to kill us all. No, we'll happily let him know everything so he can kill us. After all, it's such an honour to be killed by such a great and powerful wizard as Voldemort." My voice drips with sarcasm._

"_Look, Potter-"_

_So, it's Potter now, is it?_

" _- I mean it. I can't take it anymore. Today, when you escaped, he took me to the mountains in France - that's one of the many hideouts - and used the Cruciatus Curse on me till I thought I'd go insane. You know what that feels like, Potter?"_

"_Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do," I say sourly. "Voldemort likes that one a lot."_

_Malfoy looks terrified that all his reasons are flying out the window. I watch, this time with interest and not hate as he struggles to find words._

_He deflates._

"_That's not it." I have to strain my ears to hear the small whisper. "I don't want… I can't let her get hurt."_

_I start back. Draco Malfoy, caring for someone? I'm fuelled by my curiosity. _

"_Who's… 'her'?"_

_He looks up at me, and for a moment, I think he'll explode with hate for me, hate for the question. His previously bowed head comes up again. _

"_If I can't join your Order lot, you have to promise me to keep her safe."_

"_Who!"_

"_Promise, Potter."_

"…_Alright."_

_I can't believe I'm speaking to Draco Malfoy in such a civilised way. The hostility within me has climbed down to a sheer minimum. I don't know what I feel, apart from curiosity…_

"_Good," he says, and seems to relax. "Just… keep Hermione safe…"_

_-------_

_Hermione?_

_**Eep! There's another chapter for you. Enjoy it. According to the Word Count, including Author's Notes, this chapter was… 1766 words long!**_


	30. It's Not True

-1**_If you're confused to if this is a CMHG shipping, please take the care to read my profile in detail. You'll find out everything there. However, I take away the bit about Malfoy. Some of the fan fics I have read lately have made me see him in a new light; but Snape… he's just the same. (HATTEE!) _**

_**Hermione's POV**_

I look out onto the countryside, still not quite believing that Ron - _Ron!_ - actually made the first move yesterday. Well, he's certainly taken his sweet time about it. Still…

I wonder where we're going next. There's absolutely no way that Harry will want to stay here; it's too… comfortable. And comfortable, after a while, begins to mean permanent. Harry was comfortable at Hogwarts. It became a pretty permanent feature of his life, but it was a necessary feature. This is definitely not high on his priority list, or so I'm willing to bet. It's probably not even _on_ the list. Sometimes I just want to hit him. Knock some sense into him. He's so pessimistic about the world! Sometimes. But now… especially. I guess he has reason to be.

"CONSANT VIGILANCE!"

A bark that sounds spookily like Moody's sounds behind me, and I jump out of my seat by the window. I look around with my hand to my heart, honestly thinking that I am about to have a heart attack.

"Oh, god. It's only you, Ron."

And I'm very pleased to see you, too.

"_Only_ me?" He says jokingly. "I take offence."

"Well, maybe I don't really care." I say, playing along.

"Well, maybe I think you should care. Maybe I think you show a certain lack of concern for people's feelings."

"Do you now? Well, maybe I think that it's not that I can't tell them; it's just that I don't particularly have the desire to tell you about it…"

"Well, maybe I find that quite rude…"

"Well, maybe I think you have a very strange perception of what 'rude' means…"

"Well, maybe I think you need to go re-read your dictionary, if I didn't know there was already one installed in your head…"

"Well, maybe I think it's time you went out and actually bought a _brain_, never mind the dictionary…"

"Will you two stop arguing?" Says Harry, climbing down the stairs. Oh, God. He looks tired. Didn't he sleep? Did Voldemort try and get to his mind while he was vulnerable last night?

"Hey, Harry," I say warily. "What happened last night? You didn't… Voldemort didn't…?"

"I look that awful?" He responds evasively.

"Harry, you look tired out of your brains," says Ron, finally putting in some input.

"Well, maybe I think that you've got the wrong end of the stick entirely," he says jokingly; but then realising that we're utterly serious, he says: "Oh, alright then. I was dreaming last night… it was something really pathetic, like all the other times…"

"I don't like the way this is sounding," I say, and hurry over to the table where Harry has seated himself.

"Don't worry," he says. "It wasn't Voldemort… but it was a Death Eater. And it was a Death Eater with a scary suggestion… you won't like it at all." For some reason, he looks pointedly at me and Ron. What…?

"Who was it?" I say in a hushed voice. Already, my brain is racing with possibilities. None of them match.

"It was… Malfoy."

No way!

I can't believe it. "Oh my gosh, Harry! Did he try and hurt you or something…?"

"No," groans Harry. "You're going to hate me though. It's worse than that…"

"Nothing is worse than him trying to hurt one of us, Harry. Got it?" Ron says pointedly. Oh, long have I waited to actually hear him say wise words…

"He said… he said he wanted to join the Order."

There's a silence in which we all reflect in our own shock. Malfoy, join the Order? I don't understand. I don't want to understand. Last year, when he joined. He was so boastful, so full of his own power, because he'd finally joined up with daddy's gang. And now, out of the blue, he wants to join with the Order? Harry seems to know the thoughts racing through my head.

"I know, Hermione. So, what if he only wants to so he can go report back to Voldemort on everything? That's what I said. That's what I thought. And then…"

"What?" I snap. I don't like my flow of thought to be interrupted. What could possibly make Harry have doubts about Draco Malfoy's vileness? He's the scum of the earth. He tried to kill me, for goodness' sake…

"…Then he gave me the proof I needed." He looks up at me, and our eyes lock. Mine reflect complete and utter revulsion and disbelief. His are full of certainty and some kind of sadness… directed at me.

"What on earth could have made you believe him, Harry!" I say angrily. It's just like all those other times. "It's like all those times you tried to make us believe that Dumbledore was wrong about Snape - and what happened? He was _wrong_, Harry, _wrong_; and that's what brought the death of him! How can you, in your own proof, even _suggest_ that a ferret like Malfoy could want to join us…" Oh god - am I yelling that loud? Harry looks upset - hurt, even. But I can't help the tirade, and now he has a harsh glimmer in his eye that suggests he has perfect evidence for his opinion.

"Oh, for god's sake, Hermione! Don't you think I never thought of that? I did! It all crossed my mind in a second, and I was ready to doubt everything he said! But -" Harry's own angry outburst started to slow.

"What?" I say through clenched teeth.

"…Then he started crying…"

Malfoy? Cry? Absurd! I take my seat, only just aware that I'm standing. Ron leaps up behind us.

"Malfoy? Cry?" He says in disbelief. "Oh, come on! Don't you think that he could have easily put it on?"

"No," says Harry immediately, taking his time with the words. "It was real. Then he said, if he couldn't join the Order, he wanted me to look after someone. That's what made me have second thoughts. And he kept calling me 'Harry'…"

"So, he's finally learnt your name," I say impatiently; "who did he want you to protect?"

Harry looked up at me, and I knew the answer. I just didn't really want to hear it.

"Well… **you, **Hermione…"

XXXX

This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening.

Maybe if I tell myself that over and over, it'll go away. Just when I've finally realised that I love Ron, always have, Malfoy comes along and spoils it all. I feel like screaming; pummelling anything in sight. Malfoy has feelings for me. It's enough for me to rip his heart out and leave it to be trampled on. After all the hardship he's brought on us. All the sadness, the remorse. The hate. Making us loathe him for all these years and then finally realising he likes me. Why me? I've only ever held him in contempt. I hate him. I _loathe_ him. I… want to tear him to pieces with my bear hands…

I mumble from inside my hands, shaking all over. "What are we going to do?" I say through gritted teeth, every cell of my being hoping Harry won't conjure up the answer I know he'll offer.

"We… I don't know. But I think we should trust him for now."

Those are the words I never thought I'd hear Harry say, but they are words that I expected to hear from the moment he started doubting Malfoy's contentment at being in with Voldemort.

"No," I say shortly. "Not without the consent of others, Harry. It's enough for me alone, Harry, but I won't let you put the rest of the Order at risk because you decided to trust some Schoolboy Death Eater. I won't! We're paying the Order a visit; and whether you like it or not, you're coming to tell them exactly what you just told Ron and I."

"You didn't think I wouldn't give them the chance to say yes or no?" Says Harry angrily. Then he sighs. "I guess I've evaded them for long enough, too. But if they try to pull me back into school, then I'll be off again, don't you worry…"

"Fine," I say. I smile at him and Ron, as if reassuring myself that they still are the same people. They are my best friends. The two people I can trust with anything important. The two people that make up the stitches of my being. Without Harry and Ron, I'd just be some book-reading know-it-all with no friends. Friends are important; I don't envy Malfoy. His only friends are more like slaves. But it is his fault.

"Well, I'm not sure about anything you just said," says Ron sourly. "Firstly, when I come back to the Order, mum will kill me, dig me a grave, then dig me out again so she can do it again; and secondly, without having your dreams, Harry, I'm still completely mystified as to what to do about Malfoy. As far as I can see, he's just whining. And besides, why'd he ask you to protect Hermione? He's only ever seen her as a muggle-born."

He still hasn't figured that one out? Poor Ron. I look at them both. "Well," I say, keeping my unwavering smile, "I'm going to get Ginny out of bed and explain things to her, and in the meantime, you two can be getting ready. Besides… when we get back to the Order, we'll be the last thing they expect to see…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxXXXXX

We apparate to Headquarters, just outside. I don't really want to go in. With a mixture of nausea and doubt in me, especially about the Malfoy scenario, I'm finding it hard to do anything but tremble with anticipation. I hope they don't let him become one of the Order. I hate him… I _hate_ him…

Harry looks at me with regret in his eyes. "Sorry, Hermione. But… I just _know_ something isn't right. We've got him wrong…"

Poor Harry, trying to give everyone a chance. I desperately want him to realise that once Draco Malfoy is in with the Order, he'll be merciless. Can't anyone see that but me? Even Ginny seemed reluctant to go ahead with my plan and just leave him be; she said everyone deserved a second chance. But he doesn't. No one like him could ever deserve anything like equality between normal, kind-hearted wizards and witches and himself.

I hate him…

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place._

The door materialises between the other two apartments like always, elongating, pushing the doors and windows of the other rooms into the corners of the central room. Even knowing how it had been achieved, I can't help but feel amazed that the people in the other rooms had felt absolutely nothing as their whole apartment was uprooted from the floor and shoved aside…

Ginny, Ron, Harry and I, all exchange a nervous glance and approach the door together. T doesn't seem like the refuge of safety we previously thought it was before; it's more like approaching the gallows like a criminal on the day of his execution. It's a horrible prospect, walking through that door. Because I know, just like everyone else, that Harry hasn't only been trying to hide from Voldemort or his Death Eaters while he tries to find all the Horcruxes, but he's been running from the Order. The Order, who so wish to help him and aid him in his journey to defeat Voldemort; so eager that they've become protective - more of a hindrance than a help…

We enter the door, but we don't even have the time to step over the threshold as a scream rings out from the first floor.

**A/N: There you go. Hermione's reaction. Oh, and thanks AnieeX3 for the review. -glomps-**

**Had to upload this twice because I was really bad with my 1st person.. Kept switching to 3rd. Ah well, life goes on.**


	31. Life Isn't that Bad

_**Disclaimer: Haven't done one of these in ages. Well, here we go. Last night, for an early Easter present, JK Rowling signed Harry Potter over to me. I know, it's unbelievable, right? Which is exactly why you should not believe me but definitely believe that I lie on the spur of the moment when it comes to disclaimers. Therefore, I don't own it. (Struggles with self: yes I do! NooOOo I don't! Sorry folks! Bear with me!)**_

_**Thanks to:**_

_**LadyBlueWolf: Yay! Two chapters! And seeing as technically this one was also written two hours after the last one, even though it is twelve o' clock at night, I'd say it was three! Yay! -glomps-**_

_**Ruby-Wonder: Tellietubbies:o Yay! Oh well, lets be Tellietubbies for today. So isn't there something they do… like… 'BIG HUGGG!' :P Thanks for review!**_

_**Ron's POV**_

Oh my god. It's mum. I'd recognise that scream anywhere. She hurries down from her place on the first floor and down the stairs, so fast I'm scared she might topple down them. That's mum. In your face. Completely. I sigh, but I don't have time to get two words out before Harry is sent toppling into me as she rockets into us all, attempting to hug every one of us.

"Oh my gosh! Ron - Hermione - Harry - Ginny! You're here! And a merry hunt you've lead us on and why on earth did you run off like that you could have been killed you complete and utter fools (seeing as Ms Weasley isn't using any commas, I'd advise you to take a breath here before you explode) and Ginny what were you thinking you're only a sixth year and You-Know-Who was there and just because they are your friends doesn't give you a licence for trouble and oh my lord! I'm glad you're safe!"

Okay, mum. Repeat that at a speed we can all hear.

"Hi mum," Says a muffled sounding Ginny. "And for your information, I probably only got out of Voldemort's (mum shudders) attack _because_ I was invited to join these lot. They're not such a bad lot, you know." She nudges me playfully in the side. Playfully? It hurts.

"Ron, you wouldn't have anything to do with this, would you?" Asks mum, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Er…"

"Well," says Ginny brightly, shooting me an amused look, "Ron was the one who invited me, actually!" She says it innocently, just right; beaming like Fred and George do when they're trying to get someone else into trouble. When I get my hands on her…

"Ron," Mum says furiously through gritted teeth, "I will deal with **you** later…" But meanwhile, she turns to Harry. Poor guy. "Harry! So nice to see you. Where have you been? You keep running off - anyone would think you didn't wand help, dear! I know, it's a silly notion, isn't it? But why didn't you write? Tell us where you were? Oh, Harry dear… I was so worried!" And then Harry is enveloped in a huge suffocating hug from mum.

And that is how Harry Potter died.

Well, nearly.

I think he may well have gone purple, which isn't a good sign. I can't help laughing at that. Mum greets us all in turn, making a point to blatantly ignore me. Honestly, I'm not particularly bothered. After all, I have no desire to be suffocated; I'm not a guy with a death wish.

It's funny, because as Mum makes such a performance, people begin to spectate. I can see Lupin, Tonks and Moody at least, gathered around the threshold.

"Okay, Mum. Give it a rest." I don't want to hurt her feelings, but I have to blunt. Besides, she's not being nice to me. "We're here for a reason, and we won't be staying long."

"What?" Says mum, shocked. How can she be surprised? "But…"

"Can't say I didn't expect that," Lupin steps forwards. "Hello, Harry."

I guess Harry's paying for the cold shoulder he gave Lupin before. His head is bowed to the ground and he shrugs slightly.

"Hi, Professor."

"You find what you were looking for, Harry?"

"Um. Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry, Professor. Wasn't very happy a few weeks ago."

You can say that again, mate.

But, to my surprise, Lupin's face lights up. "That's quite alright, Harry. After all, the map in question is technically your property and I'm sure your unhappiness was due to a lack of friends…"

"Too right," grins Harry, casting us all a smile.

Good, I was kind of missing those strange smiles. Yesterday was priceless. It was like before the whole Sirius and Dumbledore thing, when Harry still knew the regular exercise of laughing. I'm glad about that. And what's more, is that me and Hermione suddenly appear to be an item. I don't know how that happened, but we kind of… simultaneously arranged it without words. That's Hermione for you. And I guess that's what I like about her. I'd miss our blazing rows so much if I couldn't ever see her again. I think it's been on the cards for a very long time now, and I think everyone else saw it but us. Ironic… huh?

"Well," says Mum stiffly. Typical. "What are you here for, then? Did you drop out of school for any particular reason?"

I wonder if this is what Fred and George got when they left?

"Actually, we've come to ask your permission for something," says Harry suddenly, eyes lighting up. "Because it's a group decision. We need all of the Order together before we can say it."

I hate audiences…

"And why would you need to ask our permission, you?" Tonks approaches the floor, and as always, there's a sparkle in her eyes and a mischievous smile on her face. Her hair is lime green today. Of all the colours, does she have to pick ones that make you have to turn away and cover your eyes? She must see my expression, because she winks and the next minute, it's back to bubblegum pink. The pain! It burns!

"Because even though I have my opinion, it really does depend on whether you lot trust the person in question. Because otherwise he might be untrustworthy."

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Says Lupin, that calm, curious expression written all over his face.

"I'm not saying it till every single member of the Order is here," he says firmly.

But before anyone can object to this, there's a bark from above.

"Potter, Weasley, Granger, Weasley! What might you be doing… truanting, perhaps?" I can recognise the voice of McGonagall a mile off. But we're ready for people like her. After all, technically, we've faced Voldemort. Well… Harry, lots of times.

"Save comments like that for Fred and George, Professor!" I erupt.

"Are you enjoying that cup of tea?" Ginny observes.

"Eek!" Hermione surveys us all with terrified expressions.

"And what would you be doing, Professor? Truanting?" Says Harry cheerily.

Hah!

McGonagall's lips thin till I fear they might very well vanish completely. "Detention, all of you," she says in unimpressed tones.

We can't help it. We all, including Mum, burst into hysterical laughter.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Can you believe it?" I chuckle, stroking Hermione's hair. "A detention in the bag, even though we're out of school…"

She smiled up at me, _Hogwarts: A History_ in her hands. I don't know how many times she's read that book but the pages are yellowed and all have little flick marks in the corner where she's bent the pages. Good old Hermione. She doesn't change.

"I hope they get the picture we're not coming back for good," she says, smile fading slightly. "Your mum will have already tried to get through to my parents; I wouldn't be surprised if the minute I went through that door they came and dragged me home."

"That won't happen." I say firmly. "We're sticking like glue to Harry till this is over."

"That's the spirit, Ron," she says lightly, turning another page. Honestly, I think she reads each page in about ten seconds. That makes me smile.

Before this, when we came back, Lupin smuggled Harry away and started talking about stuff. Probably You-Know-Who related. Ginny was immediately scooped up by mum, and told that seeing as she wouldn't be staying long (mum is still miffed about that) she'd have to do double the work to make up for it. Hermione hovered between Harry and I, looking at a loss of what to say, and avoiding Professor McGonagall completely, as if she was scared she might get another detention. After Harry heard Lupin's words of wisdom, however, he agreed to play a game of wizard's chess with me. He's getting good. It's not fair.

I still beat him with ease, though.

Apparently, the next time all the Order members will be together is conveniently tomorrow. I think Harry's relieved about that; after all, I see what he means. Being here is like being suffocated, being held down. I'd much rather be out there, looking for things. Trying at least to do something rather than just sit around, looking up at the ceiling…

Well, maybe it's not so bad, I think, as Hermione joins me on the sofa.

_**What do you think of my longer chapters? Think I should keep them? I know they're not completely long, but they're better than being short, right? Please R&R!**_


	32. A Test

-1**A rather Angsty Chapter, but don't blame me… blame the music I was listening to!**

**Don'tLetMeGetMe: Mwahaha, next time, I'll let Harry be suffocated. **

**LadyBlueWolf: It was a nice glomp! I could give you a painful one, but I don't think that'd be very nice. **

**Radish Earrings: You wouldn't be…. Would you? Nah. Lost it. Sorry, hehe.**

**Draco's POV**

I can't think, can't remember… don't want to think… don't want to remember…

The light illuminates my room but I have no desire to get up. I don't know what to think anymore; last night I snapped, completely. I showed the ultimate sign of weakness. I gave in. I actually asked to join Potter.

And its strange, because all of the hate has just melted away, and all that's left is a desperate longing to be part of something more, of an organisation where you can do things with liberty. I don't know if Harry took me seriously. He looked at me with such hate, such loathing, like I was the tiniest speck on the floor. And I _felt_ like a speck on the floor. Like nothing - and I felt that I regretted that I didn't like him. All in a couple of hours, I've surrendered every single prejudice I ever held against him and his 'Golden Trio', and it's left a longing inside, a hollow that wants to be filled for once with some kind of love…

I can't believe I'm thinking like this, but it's the only way I can make myself feel any more desolate. Ripped to pieces by the servitude to the Dark Lord, and my own needs to be wanted. But its no good; his lot will never let me let me join them. I've dug a hole and I guess the only thing I can do now is try and stop it from getting any deeper.

I wish I hadn't spoken to Potter last night…

No. It was the right thing to do…

Draco, do you know the difference between right and wrong? No.

You've been brought up in a completely different world to them. You've been brought up in a world which you always thought was the right path…

But it's not… it can't be…

Look at me: not even knowing the difference between wrong and right, easy or hard.

And what did I say?

I asked Potter, like the most pathetic thing in the world, to protect Granger. And so he knows. I guess I should feel embarrassed, but I'm too hollow for that. I know that right now, I should be out looking for them, but whether I'd be doing it for the Dark Lord, or to join with them, I don't know. I don't know what to do. The path beneath my feet keeps changing, my footholds keep on crumbling…

**XXX**

I shiver, hidden in the crowds of muggles around me. I'm sitting on a park bench, passing the eyes by looking out over the many people in front of me. I'm supposed to be meeting with Bellatrix Lestrange here. Of course, she'll be disguised, but we've sidestepped these matters. There's a password…

I've finally collected my thoughts together. Not enough to decide on any course of action, but enough, at least, to see her. I'm not sure where my loyalties lie anymore, but tonight, I'll talk to Potter again. And I'll see his Order lot. But in the meantime, the Dark Lord's bidding must be done. No use in faking my own death, or running away. He'll know. The Order… Potter's lot, that's my only hope now.

A disgusting looking woman heads over in my direction.

I'm not sure if its Bellatrix, but she's sly. I haven't been told why this meeting is being held.

"Hello, sonny," the woman cackles. No. Not the password. It must just be some old lady, then. But still, I can't get my hopes up. There have to be other reasons this meeting was arranged.

I look vaguely into the distance. I'm not very good in these situations. Normally, I'd tell her to get lost, but the heart's totally gone out of me.

"You look rather sad, boy."

"Not really." I say coldly.

The woman laughs, but it sounds more like a cackle. She's ancient. "There's no need to be rude, son."

"I'm not your son."

She laughs again. "Typical of teenagers. You don't look so well, though. Having trouble?"

"No."

"I do know what you are, you know." She says, and my heart clenches, or what's left of it.

"What?" I hiss. She can't know I'm a Death Eater! I make to leave, the panic rising in my throat.

"Yes," she says knowingly, "my young wizard friend. That's right, isn't it, you are a wizard?"

Immediately, I relax. "Yeah, I guess you could say I am."

"And your name's Draco Malfoy…"

How does she…?

"No…" I hasten to say, but she's not to be swayed. There's a steely glint in her ancient eyes.

"There be folks who'd say you come from a dark family, Mr Malfoy… but I disagree. I think your servitude… is admirable."

"My servitude to who?" I say cautiously.

"Is there any question to whom? The Dark Lord. But you don't seem happy, do you? Not having second thoughts? Because you have to remember sonny, you do what's best for you."

How does she know all these things?

"I'm fine," I say stiffly. "I'm loyal to my family."

Why can't that be true?

The woman smiles, but the steely glint doesn't die.

"Wise choice," she says to me in a low voice, that makes my eyes widen. It's a smile that illustrates satisfaction and evil, like I've answered a question right. Then she leans closer, and I almost draw back I'm so disconcerted. What…?

And then she says, and I know who she is from it:

"Snakes and Ladders…"

And with that, Bellatrix gets up, and walks away.

But I've passed the test. She still thinks I'm faithful.

Thank you…

**XXX**

I fall into sleep, but it isn't any old dream, and this time, he's waiting for me. I stand on the ethereal floor, made of the mists of thought, and walk over to him, not sure what to say: to do. How can I say anything, especially now he thinks I'm some kind of weak being that doesn't even have the right to be called human. It just goes to show how low I've fallen, to think that of myself. But I've been driven to it…

"Potter?" I say, and my voice sound hoarse and unwelcoming.

"So," he says, "it's back to Potter now."

What does he mean by that? I've only ever called him by that name, haven't I?

"When…"

"The Order have agreed to see you tomorrow at six o' clock. Be here sharp…"

He shows me a piece of paper that's obviously had the address written on it by the secret keeper; it reads:

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place".

"…And remember to wipe your feet when you come in," he says humourlessly, "I don't want you getting mud all over my carpet."

"But…"

"I don't have anything else to say to you, Malfoy, until you are proved trustworthy by the Order."

"But… you don't… you don't believe me?"

Harry looks away at that. "It's not up to me, Malfoy. It's the whole Order's decision."

"So you do…?"

"Good bye."

" - Bye."

But he's already gone.

**A/N: So, next chapter, we see if the Order take in Draco. Exciting, huh?**


	33. Cruelty Paves The Path to Love

A/N: I update this every weekend, and write until my eyes start to go googly. So, expect as many chapters as I can humanly cope with, but over Easter I'm afraid I can't update at all, but I'll try to give you a healthy update on the Friday.  
Oh! And occasionally, I'm going to stick a Ginny POV in. I think she deserves to share her thoughts.

Harry's POV

What do I do?

For as long as I can remember, Draco Malfoy has been someone to be hated and loathed, so how come I'm in such a muddle about him? How do we know if he's genuine? How do I know if he's lying? It's complicated, and I think I've finally begun to realise the difference between what's right and what's easy.

I get up, welcoming the light of mine and Ron's room. For the fun of it, I Disapparate and deliberately apparate on his legs. I laugh when I receive a punch to the head in his frenzy to see what it is that's just probably cracked both his kneecaps.

"Blimey, Harry; get off!"

"Just thought you might want a more efficient way of waking up than waiting till you start choking on one of your snores, as per usual.

"I do not snore!"

"Just get up, Ron!"

"What's the hurry?"

"Are you and Hermione an item?"

"What?"

Hah. That one got him. He goes red, and splutters; a sure sign that he is.

"Well… well, no…"

"Oh, go on, Ron. You'll save yourself a lot of grief if you tell me the truth. It's pretty obvious anyway…"

"Well, well, figuratively speaking, I didn't really ask her out…"

"So you are, though not technically?"

"Bloody hell, Harry; how come you're so awake?"

I shrug, but at last I've got what I want. They've finally admitted defeat: they've finally worn each other down so much they said yes. Hah! I knew it. I've known it all along, ever since my third year when they started arguing every second.

After getting dressed and cleaning my teeth (got to have shiny teeth…) I head down to breakfast, but not before I've done something very, very important. And conveniently, I bump into the red-haired importance as I climb down the stairs.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny says coolly.

"Ginny," I say; "want to go out with me, again?"

Her immediate look is surprised, and then unwillingly a smile creeps across her face. Then, predictably, she throws her self on me. "Finally come over to the sane side, have you? So what made you change your mind?"

"You," I laugh, but the rest of my sentence, about a dream, is cut off.

"Ginny! Get off Harry!" Says Mrs Weasley. "You look like you're suffocating him."

I grin at Ginny. Well, it's obviously a trait she's inherited from her mother. I don't dare say that in case I offend Mrs Weasley, but it's a thought I'll keep.

"I was intending to," says Ginny mischievously. "Then I could keep him under my bed"  
For a moment Mrs Weasley's mouth hangs open in disbelief at what her daughter just implied, but a second later she bursts into hysterics. And unbelievably, she walks into the kitchen, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

"Your mum…" I say, mouth hanging open.

"…Is unpredictable," says Ginny, smiling; and then her look hardens. "It's a family trait we Weasley girls possess," she says, and pounces on me.

XXX

"Didn't think much of the entertainment when we arrived," grins Fred.

"Very gruesome," nods George in agreement.

"But for once-"

"-We're not going to object -"

"-Because we've decided-"

"-Harry is acceptable."

I laugh, perplexed. "Thanks," I say, wondering what 'unacceptable' would be.

"And also seeing as it seemed Ginny was the one sucking his brains out."

Ginny looks evilly at Fred and George, a smile spreading across her face. "Don't think I'll ever try it on you. I like people with at least half a brain."

At that moment, most of the Order bundle into the kitchen.

Mundungus, Hagrid, Kingsley, Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Mr Weasley, McGonagall and half of the rest of those who work at the ministry are included.

"Goodness!" Says Mrs Weasley, particularly focusing on Hagrid. "Well, judging by the fact you've all come into this kitchen, I'll be guessing you want feeding."

Kingsley laughs. "No, Molly, don't worry. We're able to feed ourselves."

Hagrid centres on me.

"'Arry!" Says Hagrid, immediately coming down to sit next to me. I smile at him.

"Hey, Hagrid."

"Harry - where've yeh been?"

"I decided I didn't want to come back to Hogwarts this year."

For a moment, Hagrid looks stunned, and then he sighs. "I can't blame yeh, Harry. Hogwarts just isn' the same with Dumbledore there."

"Exactly," I say. "And besides, someone's got to contribute to all the things Dumbledore did while he was out of Hogwarts."

In that second, all of the Order's eyes are on me. I can especially feel the inquisitive gaze of Minerva McGonagall. I know they're waiting for me to spill Dumbledore's secret, but if they think I will, they're sadly mistaken. That's something I've kept secret to the world excepting Ron, Hermione, and now Ginny.

I leave the kitchen after what seems years of silence, knowing that it would not have been broken. I wave at Hagrid, who's looking at me with one of those confused expressions that always makes me want to tell him something.

Well, they'll get enough news tonight.

It's funny how things can bring my mood down so quickly.

XXX

Five thirty.

The Order is gathered in the Dining Room, and even outside, I can feel the tension. I can feel the curiosity. And Ron and Hermione wonder why I become so tetchy around here? It's 'cause the air I breathe is full of suspense, as if they're all holding their breath for me. I told them I was just going for a drink, but my throat is still dry. I couldn't even manage water, and I don't know why. It's not such a big deal, Malfoy… and us. I have a horrible feeling at the back of my throat, one that I don't know if they're capable of, but a suspicion I can't help feeling…  
I walk in the room, and the buzzing voices halt.

"Hey," I say, waving.

Their eyes bore into me.

How to do this.

"Er, in half an hour, Draco Malfoy will be coming here…"

Mutters.

"A few nights ago… technically, you all know about my dreams… I met with him. He said he wanted to join the Order… and I said… well, at first, I said no. And then… well, I'm sure he can explain it better than me, but… I think we should give him a chance. I called this meeting, because… well, it's not up to me to put everyone in danger."

"Too right it isn't, Potter." Barks McGonagall. Then her glare softens. "It was a wise decision to call us here. It is a serious proposal, and it could mean our downfall or our victory"  
I give an involuntary nod. I don't really know what to say, but I know what is coming next.

McGonagall looks at me seriously.

"And now we're all here, and I hate to put you on the spot, Potter, but I understand that Professor Dumbledore and you shared vital information before his demise. You were also there in the hours proceeding his… d-death. Harry, we need to know what happened that night"  
She's doing this on purpose, because she knows I'll break in front of so many people who care for me. It's cruel, and she's not going to get what she wants.

"Professor, I've told you, and it doesn't matter how many people I have to tell, that was between myself and him. I'm not going to talk about it!"

"But surely, for the sake of all these people who care for you-!"

The fury wells. "I'm not saying anything," I say through gritted teeth, knowing it's not long till I explode.

"They're fighting him, too, Harry -!"

"I'M NOT SAYING ANYTHING!"

And I storm from the room, slamming the door with a resounding crash. I just lost it in front of all the Order, and it's inevitable that one of them will come after me. I tear down the hallway, hearing the opening of a door behind me, run down the corridors, climb down the stairs, and before I know it, I've slammed the door of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and am standing beneath the darkening skies. I saunter down the road, simmering, until finally I come to rest at the edge of a kerb. I slump down. Why won't they understand? I can't say anything. Not a word. My mouth has been sealed not forcefully, not by magic, but by some kind of loyalty that still longs for the guiding hand of Professor Dumbledore, one of the only people who can help me.

Seconds later, I feel a shape beside me. Ginny sits down on the kerb.

"Not the choicest place to sit, Harry," she says softly.

I shrug.

"Don't worry. I don't agree with them, Harry. McGonagall shouldn't have done that. It was cruel. But, Harry, they're people, too. We're living in a parent-dominated world," she says playfully, and I smile. She can always put a smile on my face.

"I just lost it. I've been doing that a lot recently."

"Not with me, you haven't. And today, you asked me out again. So… why'd you do that?"

I shrug. "I guess I realised I'd rather have someone with me and enjoy my time with them than wish I'd done so, right at the end."

Ginny frowns. "A bit of a grim perspective, but the principle's the same. And personally, I think that might be what… Draco's feeling right now."

I look up. "Yeah… you got a point. You always have a point!"

"Outgoing, and with far too big a mouth," she says, grinning back at me, and immediately she plants a kiss on my forehead.

XXX It must've been half an hour here, on the pavement, with me and Ginny, completely ignoring passers by as we're in our own little world. But then another figure pops into existence down the other side of the road, and Ginny and I look up to catch a sliver of platinum blond hair. Silently, as if we need caution, I realise that we could be in some kind of fatal trap. I've lead Draco Malfoy to the Headquarters. I guess I just have to trust him that he didn't hint to anyone that he might know our position. But no… I took the piece of paper away, and he can't speak of it…

Still, it's disconcerting.

Exchanging a wary glance with Ginny, we rush back to Grimmauld Place.

And there's Malfoy, outside the door, just like in the dream. His eyes are hollowed, the spirit has been sucked out of him. He looks exhausted, hollow even. And for some reason, I can't help but feel sorry for him.

And stiffly, through gritted teeth, I say to him:

"Welcome to the Order of The Phoenix Headquarters, Draco."

A/N: We see what happens next chapter. 


End file.
